Uniting Realms
by Melpomene49
Summary: This is a sequel to The Swords' Master. After the attack, Stiles thought the prophecy was fulfilled. However, he soon discovers there is much more to being part of a prophecy. The brotherhood is threatened again, but by what they had least expected. Together with the pack, Stiles will have to figure out why werewolves are after him and also figure out his new magical abilities.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! This is a sequel to the fanfiction _The Swords' Master_. So, to understand this, I would highly encourage to read that story first. There Stiles discovers he has magical abilities after having a huge argument with Scott. Along the story, Stiles gets familiar with the Brotherhood of Pangea and together they try to solve recent murders. There is an ancient prophecy involved and the pack obviously notices something is going on with Stiles and tries to figure out what. If this plot interests you, you are very welcomed to read the entire story. You can try to read the sequel by itself but I don't know if everything will be entirely clear. I'll try to do my best :D**

 **For those who have already read it: Welcome back! I'm really glad, you are going to read the sequel and are here! I hope you enjoy the story and the new plot! As I said, here it is! I hope you like it and sorry for the long wait :)**

* * *

Stiles hadn`t realized he had been holding his breath. For a moment, he even asked himself how long he had been doing it for. It was impossible for him to have done it for the entire ride, that was for sure. Still, the same feeling of uncertainty and dread had filled him throughout the entire last 20 minutes.

As his jeep came to a halt, he barely noticed the sigh leaving his lips. To his surprise and before he knew it, he laughed. It started out as giggling, but soon he wasn´t able to hide how relieved and somehow proud he felt.

That moment, the girl sitting next to him, clenching the wheel with an iron grip, turned around to look at him. She seemed a bit offended, but Stiles knew she knew perfectly well why he was laughing.

Arya let go of the wheel and crossed her arms "Now, I couldn't have been _that_ bad" she stated, looking at Stiles.

"You almost ran my jeep into a tree" Stiles replied "…more than once"

She let out an exasperated sigh "It was raining _and_ the road was slippery"

Remembering all the times they had driven around in the last couple of months, Stiles couldn't help but smile. They had started a week or two after the reconstructions in the brotherhood had been mostly done. And Stiles had to admit, Arya hadn't been as clueless as he had thought in the beginning.

Of course, by clueless, he meant that she had known which pedal was which and how to move the wheel. But changing velocities and using the clutch had resulted to offer more of a challenge to her than to a normal person. The first time Stiles had offered to teach her how to drive, Arya had been reluctant to agree but had finally acknowledge it to be necessary.

Until this very day, Stiles had no idea how he had survived that afternoon. Arya hadn't started that bad. However, when she had tried to get out of the clearing where Stiles parked his jeep, things had started going downhill. Instead of simply following the clearly distinguishable path worn out into the grass, Arya had lost control. That had been the first time she had almost crashed them into a tree.

For that reason, it was hard for Stiles to believe, that after about three months of hard work, she had managed to actually get them to their destination without losing control, without the car turning off and without threatening his life in dangerous curves.

"You actually did it" he said more to himself than to Arya, coming out of his thoughts "I can't believe it"

Arya shot him a murderous glance "I'm not _that_ useless"

"I didn't mean…" he started but stopped when he saw the smile on her face.

"After all, I couldn't believe you didn't stab yourself when you started training"

Stiles tried to fake a hurtful expression "Ouch" he replied "I wasn't _that_ bad either"

Throwing him a smile, she opened the door "How do you know if you had never used a sword before?" with those words she left the car.

One second, Stiles remained in his seat, shaking his head at her words and smiling. When he opened the door and got himself out, he found Arya already hovering over the trunk. As he stepped closer, she pulled her sword _Joyeuse_ out of it and fastened the sheath to her belt.

As always, Stiles saw a small glimmer behind the leather texture when Arya's hand closed around the grip. The moment her hand left the heft, the blade returned back to normal.

"I had seen movies" Stiles answered and looked at her "And the first time we fought, I actually lasted pretty long"

Arya leaned on the car "Has it ever occurred to you that I went easy on you?"

Stiles shook his head "Don't ruin my point" he replied, "You have no prove, anyway"

As she smiled and walked over to the tree line, Stiles looked into the trunk and pulled his own sword out. Two months ago, Arya and Jonathan, a member of the brotherhood, had helped him forge his own sword. Having mostly practised with Arya and even fought with her sword many times, he had chosen a longsword just like Joyeuse.

Like Arya, he fastened the sword to his hip and made sure the car was closed. It wasn't like his jeep was at plain sight, on the contrary. Stiles and Arya had found a place easy to access and somewhat hidden to park the car while they went on patrol.

The moment he stepped next to Arya and she turned to look at him, something in her eyes glimpsed "Ready, my dear rainbow?" she asked, biting down a smile.

Stiles nodded, taking in the now almost daily joke. Since he didn't really belong into any category of magic, there was no colour his uniform could be. He had tried to tell Cedric he honestly didn't care what colour he wore. Stiles thought blue or dark purple would be the most obvious answers since his abilities as a _master_ and _mage_ were better than the other ones, but Cedric replied he would get familiar with his other abilities sooner or later. So, they had to find another solution.

As a result, Stiles wouldn't get a new uniform until the decision had been made. Apparently, the decision wasn't only Cedric's. Sadly, neither he nor Arya had any idea who also had to be involved the choice of colours.

For those reasons, Stiles had gotten a patchwork-uniform from all different kinds of colours, using spare parts in the brotherhood no one used. His pants were blue, his T-shirt was orange and the leather jacket was purple. It wasn't that _rainbowy_ , but Arya had started calling him like that and liked it enough to keep doing it.

Stiles shook those thoughts out of his mind and returned to reality "So, we do the same as yesterday, right?" he asked.

Arya nodded and stepped into the forest, Stiles walking behind her.

"I don't even understand why we have to do this today. There haven't been many demons around since the attack" she commented "Yesterday, we only found one and it wasn't hard to beat that vampire"

"Better safe than sorry, right?" Stiles answer as they walked along their usual path. According to the rules, they should unsheathe their swords but, like Arya said, there was hardly any danger around these days.

"I know…" she answered and stepped on a branch. Another thing they should be careful about. She didn't care "But things have changed now. We should focus on other things"

"And those are…?" Stiles asked.

Arya sighed and parted her eyes briefly from the trees surrounding her and the shadows hovering between them to look at Stiles "You know what I would like to be doing"

And Stiles did. He wanted to help too, but contrary to Arya, he knew there wasn't much they could do. At least now.

"You need to give him time" he said, like he always did.

He knew Arya wasn't patient and was sick of waiting, but after hearing the same words so many times, she refused to answer, simply remained quiet and kept walking.

Stiles was about to reply something when, suddenly, something on the corner of his eye made him stop. He turned around and peeked into that direction but found nothing. Staying there for a moment, he paid close attention to all his senses, trying to find something. But after listening carefully for a couple of seconds, his suspicion of something being there decreased.

For a moment, he weighted the idea of reaching into the magic dimension and looking there for anything unusual. But since he had discovered his other abilities, getting into the magic dimension had turned out to be far more difficult than it had been before. Particularly, the _psionic_ side of the dimension was causing him particular trouble.

Shaking his head, he decided it wasn't necessary. He hadn't seen nor heard anything after all. If it turned out to be a demon, it would hardly surprise Arya and him when they were together. Specially if it was alone, which was the most probable scenario.

Or it could be just a squirrel.

Apparently, Arya noticed his hesitation. She stopped a few steps before him and turned around "Everything okay?" she asked.

Stiles nodded and half jogged to reach her side "Yeah, everything all right"

She eyed him for a few seconds suspiciously. Then looked around them, specially where Stiles had been standing. But just like Stiles, she didn't find anything.

After making sure there wasn't any imminent danger, she resumed her pace. Silence fell over them as they walked between trees, each of them guarding a side of the forest and looking for any demonic activities. But like the days before, the forest was deserted and calm.

The leaves rustles as the night wind blew into them and the trunks glistened with the silvery light of the moon. Far away, Stiles was almost sure he could hear a stream of water.

Having walked this path various times before, Stiles knew there was a river further north. It actually was the limit of the territory he and Arya were responsible to patrol. Once they arrived there, they turned around and headed back to the jeep. But the nights were rarely so quiet that he could listened to the flow of water from so far away.

Soon, flooded with the calmness and peace of the forest, Stiles almost forgot the shadow he had spotted a while ago. Arya walked quietly by his side, looking in the opposite direction. The silence between them was nothing but comfortable.

After about 40 minutes of following their tangled way through the trees, they arrived at the old oak tree. This was the part where they usually parted their ways to shorten the time of the patrol. Stiles usually headed east, while Arya turned west. After about 20 minutes they would arrive at the river and thus, end their patrol.

Arya stopped in front of the tree and pulled out her sword. As her hand closed around the grip, blazing white shone into Stiles' eyes. Once the sword was out, the colour dimmed a little and started playing with its shade, changing from hue to hue.

Following her example, Stiles pulled out his sword. To his disappointment, nothing happened. The sharp blade reflected his image but no magic quality radiated from it.

"It won't gain magical properties until you name it" she reminded him "Have you thought of a name yet?"

Stiles looked at his sword "Nope, haven't decided yet"

Arya looked at him "You've had quite a lot of time"

"Well, yes, but I have to make the right decision" Stiles retorted, moving the sword around "Imagine, it is supposed to be a magical sword on the same level of Excalibur and I make a mistake and name it Pancakes!"

A smile spread across her face "You wanted to call it _Pancakes_?"

"No, of course not" Stiles answered, "But it has to be the right name, have some epic meaning, I guess, and nothing like that has come to mind"

"Well, once you have your _epic_ name, you should tell Jonathan. I'm excited to see what magical abilities it will have"

"It will be better than stalking jeeps" he joked.

Arya's smile widened and before he knew, she was on her toes, pulling him towards her. Their lips touched just for a second but it was enough for Stiles' heart to speed up and for him to hear his blood flow in his ears. Time slowed down and he was sure to hear every single beat of his heart. He tried to close his arms around her waist and pull her closer. However, it ended as sudden as it had come.

Still smiling, Arya pulled back, but he didn't let go of his hands.

"Don't get killed" he told her.

She grinned "Yeah, likewise"

Then, Arya stepped back, gave him one last smile and turned around to head her way. Just before she disappeared behind the oak tree, she turned around and glanced at Stiles.

"See you on the other side, _Swords' Master_ " she articulated, walking backwards.

"Get there alive, Ninja Girl" he replied, not missing the spark in her eyes.

Without another word, she turned around and disappeared between the trees. Not having anything else to do and already wanting his path to cross Arya's, Stiles turned east and started walking.

 **Teen Wolf**

By the time 15 minutes had gone by, Stiles had completely forgotten there had been anything unusual in the woods. He walked by the trees, sword in hand and avoiding to step on dry leaves or fallen branches. Knowing he was alone, he didn't want to get any unwanted attention.

Stiles had walked along this path so many times, his feet almost moved by themselves. The familiar energy from the magical dimension was also flowing through his veins, coming into his body through the blade in his hands. It still amazed him how natural that adrenaline-like strength felt and how a simple weapon could provide it.

Suddenly, he heard something hit the ground. Jumping in his spot, Stiles spun towards the source of the sound. Just now did he realize, it couldn't possibly be a squirrel. Not 40 minutes ago and not now. There was something in the woods with them. Following him.

Something had fallen down, that was for sure. Maybe a bag or even a body. Maybe the follower had tripped on a tree root and tumbled. It hadn't been a quiet sound and it hadn't been a usual sound.

Deciding a little bit of effort was better than to remain in the dark, he reached out for the magic dimension. Immediately, thousands of images and feelings exploded in his mind. The currents of energy rushed past him in all different directions. Tides and waves of magic all around him.

Then there were those other things he had started feeling but hadn't quite learned what they stood for. For instance, there was this magnet inside the magic dimension, tempting him to dive deeper, attracting every single cell in his body. Stiles' fingertips tingled, some comforting warm accumulating in his hands. And other things he couldn't even name. Just feel.

Luckily, he was in the woods which meant not many people were around him. That made entering the magic dimension far easier. The voices hadn't gotten louder and louder, until he had thought his ears would burst.

It took him a couple of seconds, but he finally pushed everything aside he didn't need at the moment. The warmth, the magnet, the strange little star-like energy knots and the currents he wasn't interested in. All of them dulled, making it easier for him to focus on what he was looking for.

He felt around the magic dimension, felt the trees, the branches, the air. And then, a few metres to his left, he felt a presence. For a second he halted his search, too surprised to examine the person further. His brows furrowed as he realized. It didn't make sense.

Distracted, he lost a bit of control over his powers. Out of nowhere a voice burst into his mind.

"… _Lost because of them. Just a few minutes to get it done. They haven't even noticed what they've done, faking…"_

Stiles jumped back into reality, remembering exactly where the person had been. Because it hadn't been a demon, like he would have expected. Not even one of Walter's followers. No.

It was a person that had nothing to do with magic. And the words didn't make sense at all. What had to be done? And who hadn't noticed?

Yet there was one thing that bothered Stiles the most. That made him feel completely at loss, without any idea of what was going on and who that person was.

It had felt like a few months ago, when he had reached out to the magic dimension, just to see if there was any difference between…

No, it couldn't be. If there was anyone like that, Scott would have told him. Scott would have told Cedric. Scott would _know_.

Not very sure whether that person was a friend or a foe, Stiles quietly stepped towards the spot the person had been at a couple of seconds ago.

Nothing moved as he stepped closer. Silence reigned over again. The only sound was his own breathing. By the time he turned around the corner of a tree and had a clear sight of the place he would have thought his follower to be, there was nothing. Stiles supressed a frustrated sigh.

He didn't have the time to dive into the magical dimension again. If that person wanted to attack him, the distracted state would give him the perfect chance. Fighting with all those impressions in his head, Stiles wouldn't be able to fight back.

Knowing it wasn't very smart, he raised his sword and turned slowly in circles, hoping to find something.

He cursed himself for what he was about to do.

"Hello?" he asked into the darkness "Anyone there?"

There was no answer, and no movement anywhere.

"Listen, whoever you are, I know you are there. If you don't want a fight, you can come out. I won't hurt you. I promise. Just stop following"

Then, leaves rustled to his left. Stiles turned in the blink of an eye towards that direction. But his eyes only met a few trees and, further back, some bushes. He stepped towards the most obvious hiding place, approaching the bushes with raised sword.

"Just come out and let me help you" he repeated "Or I'll have to think you aren't here to talk friendly to me"

It was an euphemism, he knew it. That person could be far worse than not friendly, but he could hardly accuse a strange of wanting to kill him. After not getting an answer, Stiles stepped further towards the bushes,. He was now almost halfway there.

Just the moment he was about to open his mouth again, something moved incredibly quickly to his right. Following his instincts, Stiles ducked with incredible speed he only had with his sword in hand.

Rapidly, he stepped aside and spun around, looking at his attacker. Stiles saw two arms, grabbing the air where his head had been moments ago. When his eyes moved up the attacker's arms and over the torn red T-shirt, he found the man's eyes.

Stiles' eyes widened in complete and utter shock.

He stepped back, inspecting his attacker one more time. But somehow, he couldn't concentrate on anything but those eyes. Those shining _blue_ eyes.

His suspicion was confirmed the moment his attacker opened his mouth and let out a deep snarl, showing his pointed fangs. Only now did Stiles noticed the clawed hands.

Slowly, he raised his sword "I don't want to hurt you, just tell me what you need and we can sort this out in peace" he said slowly, hoping this wasn't a freshly bitten wolf.

The werewolf gave him one last snarl. Then, his factions shifted into a wicked smile. Before Stiles could react, the werewolf had turned around and taken off, running as fast as he could.

One moment, Stiles was too stunned to move a single muscle.

Then, he frowned. What the hell had just happened?

Somehow it hadn't seemed like the werewolf hadn't had control of himself. He had, in fact, seemed pretty aware and lucid. But then, why hadn't he attacked him? Why would he have taken off?

The answer hit hard, filling him with dread and panic.

Arya.

The werewolf had tried to take Stiles by surprise, but had failed in the attempt. Now, he could go and attack Arya, who hadn't the slightest idea there was anyone in the woods aside from Stiles.

Moving as quickly as his legs would carry him, Stiles started running. Running like the devil himself was behind him. He needed to reach Arya and warn her before the werewolf got to her.

 **Teen Wolf**

It took less than five minutes to reach the side if the river they usually met at. Stiles spotted the silver reflection of the moon on the waves before he made out the silhouette standing before it.

Arya noticed him and started to walk in his direction.

"What took you so long…?" she started to ask, but her question died out as soon as she saw in which state Stiles was at.

"What happened?" she asked, pulling her sword back out from its sheath.

Stiles arrived at her side, breathing heavily "Didn't anything attack you? _Follow_ you?" he asked her.

" _What_? No." she replied frowning in concern "Stiles, tell me. _What_ is going on?"

Trying to regain his breath, Stiles shook his head "There was someone following us since we started the patrol. He waited until we split up and tried to surprise me. I saw him and got out of danger in time. But then he simply took off. I thought he would try and surprise you"

Arya's frowned deepened " _Someone_? _He_?" she asked "Stiles, what do you mean? It wasn't a demon?"

Stiles shook his head "No" he replied "It was…"

However, Stiles never got to finish that sentence. Suddenly, Arya's eyes widened and she threw herself at Stiles, tearing him to the ground with her, Joyeuse falling from her hand. As they laid on the ground, Stiles looked up and spotted the blue eyes. A silhouette was crouching where he had stood moments ago. And god knew what would have happened if Arya hadn't saved him.

Arya stared at the man for a second "A werewolf" she breathed out.

As fast as they could, they quickly got on their feet. Stiles taking a protecting stance before Arya as she retrieved her sword from the ground. In a matter of seconds, Arya was standing next to him, both of their swords raised and pointing at the attacker.

Raising to his feet slowly, Stiles could get a clearer image of the werewolf. He could hardly be older than 30. Blue bags fell under his eyes, standing out on pale skin. His hair was black and long, disappearing behind his shoulders. Like Stiles had seen before, the clothes were torn. The pants as well as the red shirt were dirty and full of gashes.

Hoping for the best, Stiles decided to try his luck one more time.

"I told you, this isn't necessary" he repeated what he had said in the woods "There's no need to fight"

But the werewolf didn't reply. He stared at Stiles and then at Arya, not moving a single muscle. It almost seemed like he hadn't heard him.

"Stiles" Arya whispered quietly after a minute had gone by "Can it be that he lost control? Like Scott said?"

Stiles was about to reply he didn't know when something incredibly hard hit his shoulder. Taken completely by surprise, Stiles stumbled back, his sword falling from his hands.

He only heard a worried "Stiles!" before something equally as hard impacted with his jaw, sending him tumbling further back. Black dots blurred his vision and he lost his balance. The only thing he could make out was a dark shadow in front of him.

Just the second he recovered his senses and recognised a second pair of blue eyes right in front of him, something hit his chest. This time, he saw the clawed fist that had hit him. Moving blindly, he tried to raise his hands and protect himself. However, that didn't stop his attacker from another blow. This time to his stomach.

Completely disoriented, he couldn't help stepping back. But, suddenly, when he wanted to place his foot on the floor, he found there wasn't any more behind him. One more time he heard Arya scream something but didn't distinguish it. Instead, he lost his balance and with one last push, fell into the cold river.

 **Teen Wolf**

Arya watched in horror as Stiles fell into the river. She screamed his name, but knew he hadn't heard her. One second the only thing in her mind was going after him, but then she considered whether jumping into the stream and pulling him out was an intelligent option. His silhouette had already disappeared in the darkness. If she jumped right now, the werewolves would use her distraction to their advantage and attack her.

She could only hope Stiles knew how to swim.

And that he wasn't to disoriented by the blows.

The _master_ swallowed hard. In a second, there was one clear goal in her mind. Get the werewolves out of the way and immediately go looking for Stiles.

Her attention returned to the dark silhouettes in front of her. The first werewolf was still standing in the same spot he had a couple of minutes ago, the only difference being the wicked smile on his face.

To his left now stood a female werewolf, a few years younger than him. She was wearing the same torn clothes and her hair was equally as tangled as his. Arya couldn't help but notice neither of them were wearing any shoes.

Fastening her grip around Joyeuse, Arya stared at her attacker for a second before speaking.

"I hope you have a really good explanation for throwing my boyfriend into the river" she said full of bitterness.

The woman didn't pay her any attention, instead she smiled at her companion.

This not-responding situation was getting on Arya's nerves. Why the hell weren't they talking to her? In fact, what was this entire thing all _about_? She didn't even _know_ them.

"Talk to me!" she demanded, feeling the adrenaline through her veins.

Her voice must have been as authoritarian as she had hoped, for the werewolf moved his chin up and looked her over. His eyes full of contempt and hate.

"Where's your camp?" he asked.

Arya scoffed "The hell I'm going to tell you"

Having probably expected that reaction, the woman stepped threateningly towards her, but didn't attack. Arya's eyes jumped from the woman to the man. Even though she wanted this confrontation to be over to help Stiles, she wasn't willing to attack first. It stood two against one and she wasn't as big as the werewolves in front of her.

Suddenly, the woman's eyes narrowed to slits "You don't know, do you?" she asked "You don't _know_ what brought us here?"

Arya hated to admit not knowing in front of her enemies but she also wasn't going to lie. However, her silence was enough of an answer for the woman.

"You don't even _know_ " she spat angrily "You don't even _care_. You are all alike."

Still, Arya had no idea what the woman was talking about. She stared at her, hoping her silence would encourage her to keep talking and tell her more. Tell her what the hell was going on and who the hell they were.

Her hopes were crushed in the following second.

"It doesn't matter" spoke the male werewolf "She doesn't have to know to _pay_ for her people's sins"

Before Arya had enough time to process the entirety of that sentence, the werewolf leaped forward with his arms spread and his claws aiming at her throat.

Moving swiftly, Arya dodge to the side. The second she avoided the blow, however, something moved to her left. Just in time, Arya turned around to see a fist coming towards her.

Without thinking, she let go of her sword for a moment only to catch it again in less than a second. Only this time, her hands weren't closed around the heft. Her hands were closed around the blade, the pommel pointing outwards.

Before the fist had a chance to hit her. She struck the pommel forwards, hitting her attacker in the face with the round metal. The werewolf-woman stumbled back, bringing her hands to her now bleeding nose.

The third time however, Arya wasn't fast enough. Before she had even time to turn around. A sharp pain exploded in her right arm. Automatically, she stepped back, biting her lip to supress the pain. One look revealed four gashes torn into her bloodied jacket.

Carefully, she continued stepping back, hoping to get a clear sight on both of her attackers. Her heart was pumping at an incredible steep, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She tried to calm own her breathing but was too focused on the fight to manage concentrating on anything else.

Before she could completely recover, the male werewolf was already leaping towards her.

For one second, everything froze as a single though struck Arya's mind.

She couldn't kill them.

Ever since she had been a kid, she had used her sword to kill demons. Honestly, she hadn't ever thought about it. They were demons after all. Monsters that would kill anything that crossed their paths.

There was no remorse in killing them, they were inhuman, dangerous beings that had to be stopped.

This, however, was different.

Standing in front of her weren't soulless demons. In front of her were actual living beings. Werewolf or not, if she used her sword against them, there was a chance she might take a life.

Snapping out of her thoughts just in time, Arya managed to move aside the moment time returned to normal. She glanced down at her sword, then at the werewolf in front of her. What was she supposed to _do_?

However, her moral dilemma was cut short when the werewolf made one more attempt to attack her. With a wicked smile on his face, he stepped forward, raising his clawed hand ready to strike her down.

Just the second Arya was about to hit the werewolf with Joyeuse's pommel in his stomach and make him fall, something hit her side at full speed.

Already weakened by the gashes in her arms, Arya wasn't able to withstand the blow. She fell to the ground, Joyeuse falling out of her range.

As soon as she hit the floor, the woman smiled down at her, kneeling down to her side. Before Arya could even attempt to get up and push her aside, her fist came rushing down and hit her face.

Little stars immediately blurred her vision. Everything around her started to spin. She coughed, noticing how every bit of strength left her body. If the play had been unfair with her sword, there was no way she was going to get out of this now.

Something closed around her throat and it took her a second to realize it was the woman's hand trying to cut the breath out of her. She tried to get her hands off her, struggling as hard as she could. But, she could hardly manage a clear thought, much less enough strength to get the werewolf off her.

"Take this as _reparations_ " the woman spat and before Arya knew, excruciating pain exploded in her stomach as something pierced into her skin. Arya didn't know if she cried out on pain or not. The only thing she caught from the outside world were bloodied claws moving away from her.

With her last strength she tried to look at the place that burned with agonising pain. The only thing she saw, was her blurry shirt soaked with blood.

Breathing heavily, she saw the woman get to her feet and look down at her. As soon as she heard the werewolves walking away, she tried to move and get up. However, as soon as she tried to move her stomach, a wave of pain rolled over her, taking her last bit of consciousness.

 **Teen Wolf**

Stiles was trembling like he never had in his entire life. Somehow he managed to swim to shore and get out of the ice-cold water. He found himself wondering how the water was so cold if it was summer while he pulled himself into land, feeling every single of his muscles shake violently.

As soon as his entire body was out of the water, he let himself fall on the grass. He had no idea when he had started to cough, the only thing he was aware of was the burning of his lungs and feeling like they were going to burst.

In what felt like an eternity, the violent coughs died down and he found himself breathing again, taking as much oxygen in as his lungs would allow him to.

His body didn't stop shaking for a second, but as oxygen returned to his system, he found himself thinking clearer again.

Slowly, the panic that had taken hold of him in the water started to decrease. Instead, his mind provided him with the memories of how he had gotten into the water and what had happened beforehand.

He remembered the patrol, the werewolf and Arya.

His mind halted at that last thought.

Arya was alone, probably fighting against two werewolves. Because even though Stiles hadn't seen the person that had pushed him into the river, he knew it must have been a werewolf.

The idea of Arya standing against two grown werewolves didn't please him at all. Somehow, the surge to protect her and make sure not one single scratch got to her, gave him enough strength to push his body up and insecurely get on his feet.

When the wind hit his body, Stiles had to do his best to not let himself fall back to the ground. It was almost as cold as the water. How come he hadn't felt it before?

Trying to provide warmth, he closer his arms around his body, in an useless attempt to stop shaking. Then, out of nowhere, he realized how dumb he was. In a second, he dove into the magic dimension and focused as hard as he could on creating fire around him. Immediately, the energy currents bent to his will and he was enveloped by a comforting warm.

His body was still shaking but at least now he could keep going against the wind. He didn't know how long he walked along the river, only focusing on placing one step after another. After what felt like an eternity, he recognized the trees in front of him. Further along, he spotted the meeting point he and Arya had agreed on. Where they had been attacked.

The moment he had a clear sight on the place, he frowned. There wasn't anyone in sight. Not Arya and not the werewolves.

Was it possible for Arya to have run away? Maybe the werewolves had followed her. In the best case scenario, she had made it back to the jeep and driven away. Stiles blessed whatever superior force there was for Arya having learned how to drive. If that was the case, he only needed to…

His hopes were brutally crushed the moment he noticed the delicate figure laying unconscious on the floor.

"Oh God, _Arya!_ " he found himself saying as he ran to her side.

His eyes widened in horror as he saw her injuries. There was an angry bruise on her face next to her eye, her sleeve was soaked in blood.

However, what made him go pale was the huge amount of blood coming from her stomach.

"No, no, no" he muttered and looked for a pulse. In a matter of seconds, he found it.

It would be a lie to say he was relieved. As a matter of fact, he was worried dead about her. Doing the first thing that came into his mind, he took a look at the wound more carefully.

It looked like someone had pierced holes into her stomach. Five of them, forming a circle. The answer hit Stiles in a second. One of the werewolves had pierced their claws into her skin and he had no way of telling how deep they had managed to get.

Judging by the blood coming out of the wounds, however, he knew it was serious. Stiles could only hope they hadn't hit anything vital.

With shaking hands, Stiles took off his jacket. It was soaked wet but he figured it would be better than nothing. Trying to move her as carefully as he could, he bound it around her stomach, applying as much pressure as he could.

Whether he was shaking of cold or of fright was hard to tell.

Stiles knew he wouldn't be able to carry her to the jeep. Not because he didn't know if he had enough strength, but because he knew moving her that much would just make her lose more blood.

Since there was no healer in the brotherhood anymore, he could only think of one person that would be able to help her.

His phone was rubbish the moment he had fallen into the water. Therefore, he could only hope Arya had remembered to bring hers. Quickly, he looked for it in her pockets and sighed in relief when he found it.

Still applying pressure with one hand, Stiles started to look into her contacts with the other hand, looking for a particular name.

Stiles knew Arya and Cedric had told him no to bother him until he had recovered. Until he had returned to normal. They wanted to go easy on him and Stiles couldn't blame them. But since Eustace was gone, Quinn was the only one that had medical knowledge in the brotherhood.

Calling Melissa or the hospital was out of the question. For starters, there was no way an ambulance was getting into the woods. Besides, he would have to explain what they were doing inside the woods, where the injuries had come from and who had attacked them.

Quinn knew how to use the potions Eustace had made but hadn't used before dying. That boy was his best shot.

Not doubting one more second, he pressed on the green dial and started the call. After the third tone, Quinn picked up the phone.

"Stiles?" he asked, completely awake. Stiles knew he hadn't been sleeping.

"Listen, Quinn, I need you to come into the woods right now, where Arya and I end out patrol" he said without bothering to greet him "We were attacked and Arya is hurt. Badly. Just get here as fast as you can and bring something to help her"

"I… I'm on my way, Stiles" Quinn replied, worry and surprise clearly audible in his voice.

Stiles took in a deep breath "Get here quick" he told Quinn "She needs help"

One second the boy remained quiet. Stiles heard the clinging of glass against glass. Quinn was probably getting flasks out of Eustace's shelf.

"Stiles? What kind of demon attacked her?" he asked.

"None" Stiles replied coldly "It was a werewolf. Werewolves tried to kill us"

* * *

 **Thank you very much for reading! I hope you liked this chapter and enjoyed it :)**

 **Please, leave a review if you can. It is awesome to read them and they just make me tremendously happy. So please, I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions. Besides, I appreciate deeply any help to improve my writing.**

 **Again, thanks for reading! And I hope it was a good start of the sequel :)**

 **(Sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes)**

 **Melpomene :D**


	2. Chapter 2

Honestly, Stiles was hardly aware of anything around him while he waited for Quinn. His attention was on keeping pressure on Arya's wound, which, admittedly, grew into a harder task each passing second.

Although he had reached into the magic dimension to warm himself up and it had worked for the first couple of minutes, the constant effort of bending the energy currents wasn't helping him regain any strength. Soon, concentrating became harder, the magic harder to grasp. Thus, the warmth started to fade, causing Stiles' limbs to start shaking again.

Stiles couldn't help but wonder how long he had been in the river and why he was feeling so stupidly cold. He remembered falling into water before, heck, he remembered holding Derek for _hours_ in the swimming pool, but even then, he hadn't felt as cold as now.

Somewhere, in a deep corner of his mind, the suspicion of something being wrong arose in his mind. However, he was too exhausted to give it much thought and thus, returned to his primary tasks. Concentrate on warmth and keep pressure on Arya's wound.

Finally, Stiles heard something move behind the trees in front of him. One second he feared the werewolves had come back to finish their job. There was no way he would be able to defend himself against them right now. There was no way he would be able to save Arya.

His worries were quickly subdued when two figures stepped out of the shadows. One of them was a boy a bit shorter than Stiles, glasses resting on his pale nose and a brown bag across his shoulder. Behind him was a man, tall and dressed in green. Quinn and Cedric.

The moment the boy's eyes fell on Arya, his eyes widened.

"Shit" he murmured, rushing forward to her side, kneeling down.

It took less than a second for Cedric to do the same as his son. Moving as fast as Stiles had never seen him, he kneeled down next to Quinn, both of them opposite to Stiles.

Without saying a word, Quinn opened his bag and pulled two vials out. One contained a blueish liquid while the other one was bigger and contained a thicker substance. Stiles didn't miss the boy's trembling hands. At least he wasn't the only one.

Quinn swallowed "Stiles, when I say go, I need you to remove your jacket as quickly as you can" the boy turned to look at Cedric "Dad, then I'll need you to pull Arya's shirt up, just so that I can see the wound and apply the lotion"

Cedric looked at Stiles expectantly, to which Stiles immediately nodded. The next second, Quinn unscrewed the vial with the blueish liquid, his hand already hovering over Arya's figure.

The boy looked at Stiles and nodded. Quickly, Stiles untied the knot he had made and removed his jacket from Arya's wound, leaving a clear sight on her blood stained T-shirt. Before Stiles had completely moved his hands away, Cedric had already pulled her shirt up, just a few centimetres, showing the lower part of her stomach.

Stiles' heart sank when he saw her skin. Blood tainted almost her entire stomach, dark and red blood, coming from five holes in her stomach. It wasn't like the usual gashes they got when fighting demons. Something had pierced deeply into her skin, leaving small but horrendous wounds.

In seconds, Quinn's hand came down and he let the liquid fall on Arya's wound. It was hard to tell what happened next, but Stiles saw for a moment how the wounds absorbed the liquid. Just in a few moments, the blue substance had disappeared from her skin and looking closely, Stiles noticed the bleeding had started slowing down.

Suddenly, Stiles felt something warm in his hand. Looking down he noticed he was touching Arya's arm. Some sort of heat seemed to come off from it. Focusing, Stiles realized the source of the heat were Arya's wounds, or much rather the liquid inside of them. Surprised, Stiles remembered he was still connected to the magic dimension, which meant his powers as a _healer_ were theoretically also present.

He remembered how he had been able to feel things inside a body during the last few months. This time he was doing the same. Even though he knew he couldn't directly heal anyone or anything yet, he still could feel the wounds and their state.

And right now, he felt Arya healing.

He smiled and looked up at Quinn.

"It's working" he told him "She'll be fine"

Relief appeared on the boy's face. With calmer hands, he opened the second container. Carefully, he took some of the salve in his fingers and then spread it on Arya's hurt skin. Stiles didn't feel anything from the magic dimension directly related to that unguent, but he trusted Quinn.

After a few seconds, Quinn retrieved his hand and nodded at Cedric who, carefully, pulled Arya's shirt back down. One moment, they stared at Arya, unconscious on the ground. Quinn rested his hand affectionately on her shoulder.

But then, both of the newcomers seemed to get over their shock. Cedric was the first one to look up at Stiles.

"I need to know…" he trailed off the second he got a look at Stiles. A _real_ look.

His eyes widened "Stiles! What _happened_ to you?" he asked in utter worry.

Stiles frowned, he knew he was soaking wet but aside from that, he wasn't aware of any other physical symptom of the attack.

At his father's words, Quinn's eyes rose from his adoptive sister.

Like his father, he seemed completely surprised "Stiles" he asked carefully " _Why_ are your lips blue?"

Taken completely by surprise, Stiles' hand snapped up to his lips. Naturally, when he tried to take a look at his fingers, looking for something that might indicate him what they had seen, he found nothing. The only thing he noticed was his trembling hand, shaking violently.

He looked past his hand at Quinn "I fell into the river" he replied "They pushed me"

Cedric shook his head. Moving quickly, he removed the green cloak he was wearing. With a few steps he arrived next to Stiles and swung it over the boy's shoulders.

Stiles had to admit, it felt incredibly good to have something dry to cover him up. Without really noticing, he pulled the cloak tighter, trying to tighten it around his body.

Quinn stared at him speechless "Stiles it's _June_ , the water _can't_ be so cold to have this effect"

And Stiles knew he was right. But he also knew the river had, in fact, _been_ so cold. Or he had been a while inside the water. He dismissed the latter possibility almost instantly. If he had been too long inside the water, he wouldn't have gotten here in time to help Arya.

He must have been too deep in thoughts for in the next second, Quinn got on his feet and walked over to the river. From where he was sitting, Stiles could only see Quinn's back but as he kneeled down next to the shore, he guessed what he was doing.

Shaking his head, Quinn got on his feet and walked back. With a frown on his face, he stayed next to Cedric and looked at his father.

"It's _ice-cold_ " he said, completely clueless "That's _impossible_. It's just… _how_?"

Cedric looked at his son for a moment, then his eyes travelled to Stiles for a moment. Stiles could see how he was thinking, he could almost see the neurons firing inside his brain. Apparently reaching a conclusion, he placed his hand on Quinn's shoulder and took one quick glance at the river.

"It looks like the werewolves weren't working alone" he replied "They must have had a _mage_ helping them. A _powerful_ one"

The old man shook his head. Frustrated, he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. After a few seconds, he sighed and raised his head again.

"We can't worry about this right now" he told Quinn and Stiles "We need to get Arya to the infirmary and we need to get _you"_ he pointed at Stiles "somewhere warm"

 **Tee Wolf**

After an hour, three cups of tea and two blankets around his shoulders, Stiles' temperature returned to normal. He was sitting in the brotherhood's infirmary, occupying one of the three chairs inside the tent. The moment he had come in, he had tried to move towards the chair but Quinn had immediately stopped him. Instead he had offered him a fresh set of clothes. All of them completely dry.

Walking to a more private part inside the tent, Stiles had changed his clothes. Miraculously, it had helped a lot to get rid of the cold. Before that moment, Stiles hadn't considered how big of an effect the wet clothes had had on the temperature.

Nonetheless, Arthur, Cedric's assistant, had reminded him that his lips hadn't returned to normal. Therefore, he had to stay in the brotherhood and wait inside a tent until he got warm. The constant shivering in his body hadn't helped convincing anyone he was getting warmer either. Thus, Stiles had been forced to sit down and drink the hot tea Arthur gave him while he was covered in blankets.

Cedric had soon taken off. After making sure Stiles was getting warm with Arthur's help and Arya was safely laying down inside the infirmary, her wounds having stopped bleeding, he got out of the tent. Probably, wanting to document everything and look for any clues regarding the werewolves.

Stiles knew he should call Scott. Since Walter's attack they had seen each other and talked several times, but they hadn't spent much time together. With Scott being busy with the pack and his Dad while Stiles got even more familiar with the brotherhood, their paths hadn't crossed much.

However, this was something Scott had to know no matter what. He might know who those werewolves were and why they had attacked them. And if not, that meant those two hadn't cared for this territory's alpha which meant they were rogue wolves.

Once he had rested and recovered his strength, Stiles would contact Scott. But right now, it was hard enough to keep his eyelids from falling shut.

Trying to find some distraction, Stiles let his eyes wonder across the room. Soon, they landed on Quinn, sitting on a lounge next to Arya's, his elbows pressing on his thighs and his chin resting and his palms. At first glanced, he seemed to be staring at her, but Stiles quickly noticed Quinn's mind was completely somewhere else. Judging by the frown and pain in his eyes, Stiles knew it wasn't anything positive.

"You okay?" he asked Quinn, eyeing the teen carefully.

Quinn quickly snapped out of his thoughts, he leaned back, straightening his spine and looking at his hands. He seemed to be trying to dry his palms with his pants, moving them up and down his thighs.

Not very convincingly, he nodded and looked at Stiles "Yeah… I mean… Of course, why shouldn't I?"

It only took one raised eyebrow from Stiles for Quinn to notice he wasn't buying it. There was something on the boy's mind, something bothering him and he wasn't good lying.

Giving in, Quinn shook his head "When you called, I knew _exactly_ what to get from Eustace's cupboard. I didn't even think about it" he told Stiles slowly "I just _knew_ "

For a moment, he stopped and looked down at his feet.

Finally, he shrugged, shaking his head. "But I just can't remember ever _learning_ it" he sighed "I don't remember Eustace teaching me. I don't even _remember_ what the potion was _for_. I just knew it was the _right_ one"

Quinn looked up at Stiles and smiled sadly "I guess I still have some trouble coping with the gaps, you know?" he asked "I just can't really get used to not remembering."

Stiles supressed a sigh. He should have known it. What else could have bothered Quinn? It had been a problem for him since he had woken up in the hospital.

The blow to the head Walter had given Quinn had had a few consequences on Quinn they hadn't expected. One, actually. When Quinn had woken up, he hadn't been able to remember a single thing.

Not even Arya, Cedric, Stiles or the brotherhood. The start had been difficult since Quinn hadn't really been sure who to trust. However, with time his memories had started to return. His childhood, his family, his friends. Now, he was almost back to normal, he remembered most of the main events, most of the people. Sadly, Quinn was still really blurry on the details. Things like who he had talked to, about what, when he had done something or what he had done. Those things hadn't returned to him.

Stiles thought Quinn was able to remember the bigger picture but when it came to single scenes of his life, he had trouble accessing those memories. At first, Arya had been completely set on telling him everything he couldn't remember but, as life always was for them, things couldn't be that easy.

Before any doctor could tell them what a bad idea it was to tell Quinn everything on one blow, Arya had started talking. Confusion on Quinn's face had shifted from distrust to fear and then to pain, his breathing quickening. Stiles had immediately recognized what was happening to Quinn, he was way too familiar with it.

Quinn's panic attack hadn't lasted long but it had given them enough of a clue; telling Quinn what had happened wasn't the right way to approach things. Too much information could overload his brain and if they weren't careful enough, things could get much worse.

Stiles stared at his friend for a second, then he tried to return the sad smile.

"The gaps won't be there for long" he told him "Your mind just needs time"

Quinn nodded but Stiles could see he didn't believe his words entirely. And honestly, nor did Stiles. According to Lydia, amnesia was a delicate thing. There was, sadly, a chance of some memories remaining lost. Of course, Stiles hadn't mentioned that to anyone, not even Arya.

She, Cedric and the brotherhood had enough worries after all. Telling everyone Quinn might never really remember a few years of his life wasn't a thing he wanted them to carry too. In light of recent events, more worries were, in fact, the last thing they needed.

Because Stiles had a feeling deep inside those werewolves weren't a coincidence. There was something going on. Something that threatened the entire brotherhood. Something they shouldn't take lightly.

 **Teen Wolf**

"And you waited until _now_ to tell me?" Scott asked incredulous and angry "Stiles, what if they had come back?"

Leaning on the locker next to Scott's opened one, Stiles looked at his friend thoughtfully. Even though he was perfectly aware Stiles was now more than capable of looking after himself, the protectiveness hadn't vanished. Not at all.

But now, Stiles knew it wasn't there because Scott thought of him as useless or a burden. He knew it was simply because Scott didn't want to see him hurt. Because he wanted him to be safe.

"Well, for starters my phone is pretty much rubbish, so calling you wasn't really an option" Stiles replied slowly "Secondly, after I arrived at the brotherhood, there was no danger anymore and I was too tired"

Scott crossed his arms "Too _tired_?"

Stiles nodded.

That wasn't the answer Scott had wanted to hear. Stiles knew it. But he had honestly not seen the need to call Scott. After all, he highly doubted the werewolves were going to be dumb enough to attack the brotherhood.

Sighing, Scott closed his locker and looked at Stiles "Tell me no one got seriously injured"

Just the second Stiles was about to open his mouth and reply that he and Arya were now okay, Scott raised his hands to stop him from talking.

"And, please, tell me _honestly_ what happened" he added.

The intention in his mind to not worry Scott crumbled in Stiles' mind. There was no real reason to tell him explicitly what had happened, but it had been quite a while since he and Scott had talked like this. Since they had openly discussed some threat to Beacon Hills like they had done before.

And lying wouldn't be a good way to strengthen the recovering trust between them.

"They pushed me into the river" Stiles admitted "And Arya got some serious wounds, but Quinn used Eustace's potion and she's now healing perfectly"

Scott nodded but then raised an eyebrow "You _just_ got pushed into the river?"

Stiles opened his mouth and then closed it again. He thought about it for a moment, but he couldn't find anything wrong with that sentence. After all, he _had_ fallen into the river.

"Yeah" he nodded.

Scott raised an eyebrow and Stiles knew he didn't really believe that was everything. But luckily, Scott didn't push it. Instead he gave Stiles one last incredulous glance, making clear he hadn't been fooled and then sighed.

"No one contacted me or anyone in the pack" he told Stiles "If they had come here peacefully, they would have asked permission to cross our territory or they would have at least done so quietly to not get my attention"

"Well, I don't think they came here peacefully" Stiles replied "Arya thought they might have had lost control and attacked us out of bad luck"

Scott rose an eyebrow "You don't believe her?"

After thinking one moment, Stiles shook his head "They followed us for almost an hour and waited for the best moment to attack" he told Scott "If they hadn't known what they were doing, they would have attacked us right away"

Nodding slowly, Scott turned around to face Stiles. After a second, something appeared in his eyes, an idea maybe.

"What colour were their eyes?" he asked urgently.

"Blue" the moment the word left Stiles' mouth he realised what he had just said. What that colour meant.

His eyes widened "They had killed before"

Scott nodded "So they are either betas or omegas" he deduced "Let's hope they don't have an alpha"

Stiles let his head fall back on the lockers behind him "It just _doesn't_ make sense" he spat out letting his frustration get the better of him " _Why_? How did they even _know_ what we were? It just…"

He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder "We'll figure it out" Scott said reassuringly "Don't worry"

Before Stiles could even think of what to reply, the bell rang. Students started clearing the hallways rapidly, getting into their class rooms.

Scott glanced at Stiles "Meet me in front of Deaton's after school. I'll tell the pack. Maybe someone else saw something"

Stiles nodded "Will do"

Just as Scott was turning around to leave, Stiles thought of one last question.

"Scott?" he asked to get his attention back.

The alpha turned around almost immediately "Yes?"

"You haven't told any of them, right?" he asked, then specified "About the whole prophecy thing? About _my_ part in it?"

Scott smiled reassuringly and shook his head "No, your secret is safe"

 **Teen Wolf**

Just like he had told him, Scott was waiting outside of Deaton's when Stiles parked his jeep there. Judging by the cars parked nearby, Stiles guessed the entire pack was inside as well. Somehow, everything seemed rather familiar to Stiles even though he hadn't been here in months.

When he got out of his jeep, just for a moment, it seemed like nothing had changed at all. Like he hadn't been thrown out of the pack and like he hadn't ever discovered his magical abilities. It felt like the old times. Before things with the pack had started going downhill.

Stiles' mind returned to reality when he stepped out of his jeep. Scott waited for him to reach his side and then, together they entered the veterinarian's clinic.

"Have you remembered anything useful?" Scott asked Stiles as they stepped through the deserted waiting room and the empty counter.

Stiles sighed "Nothing useful" he admitted "His clothes were torn, and he wasn't wearing shoes, but that hardly gives us any clue"

Scott shook his head "There has to be some clue somewhere"

Thinking about Scott's words, Stiles stepped into the room where the pack usually met. To his surprise, the metal table was still the same he remembered. The cupboards, the shelves, _everything_ seemed exactly like he remembered it.

The pack was also there. Lydia was talking to Malia and Liam, Derek was staring out of the window and Deaton was leaning on a counter, looking at a few flasks with herbs. Again, for just a second, Stiles felt something, some sort of familiarity.

Deaton was the first one to notice them arriving. His eyes wondered up, finding Scott and then Stiles. As soon as their glances met, he smiled at Stiles.

"I'm glad to see you again, Stiles" he said, putting the containers back into a cupboard.

Stiles smiled back "Likewise"

That second, every set of eyes seemed to travel to Stiles. It wasn't anything strange for him to be here, the pack had met here a thousand of times. But this was the first time Stiles set foot in this building again in a long time. It was, in fact, the first time he joined the pack in a serious meeting since that night in front of his jeep.

Knowing Stiles had probably blushed because of all the attention, Scott stepped forward and attracted all the attention to himself.

"Now that we're all here, let's start" he said, walking over to the table and resting his fists on it "Have any of you been contacted by a werewolf?"

No one answered. For a second, the pack only shook their hands, then Lydia raised her voice.

"I think they wanted to go by unnoticed" she replied "Malia and I went to the woods yesterday to train and she didn't get a single scent of anyone"

"That means they just came here to what?" asked Derek "Attack the first members of the brotherhood they found?"

Stiles quickly noticed Scott's shoulders tense as the same thought he had struck him. Carefully, he looked at Stiles.

"Was there any chance you and Arya were targeted specifically?" he asked slowly.

Only three persons in the room knew what those words meant. Stiles was _The Swords' Master_ , he had remarkable powers like no one inside the brotherhood and this wouldn't be the first time someone tried to kill him because of it.

However, after considering it for a moment, he quickly dismissed it "No" he replied firmly "They had no idea who we were. It seemed like they just… like they didn't _care_ about it."

"Has Arya said anything?" Scott asked "I mean, maybe she got time to talk to them while you were in the river"

Stiles shook his head "She was unconscious when I found her, and she hasn't woken"

From the other side of the room, Derek rose an eyebrow "You fell into a river?"

"They pushed me" Stiles quickly retorted "I don't know how long I was in there but when I found Arya, the werewolves had already left"

Lydia shook her head and frowned "Does that mean they only came here to attack members of the brotherhood and didn't think it necessary to tell us anything?"

"Maybe" Malia rose her voice "They thought we didn't know about the brotherhood. It isn't long since we acknowledged each other's existence. Maybe they thought we wouldn't notice"

"But that still doesn't explain why they attacked us" Stiles commented "The one didn't even talk, he just stared at us and then attacked"

Derek crossed his arms and looked at Stiles "And you're sure they knew what they were doing?"

Sighing, Stiles shrugged "I can't be entirely sure, but I saw how lucid their eyes were. I would bet they were completely aware of everything"

"Besides" added Liam "There was no full moon yesterday"

Silence fell over the room while each member of the pack submerged in their thoughts, trying to come up with an explanation or a theory. _Somehow_ , the attack had to make sense. After a few seconds, Stiles remembered something Cedric had said.

"There is a reason to believe they weren't working alone" he said "Someone with magic helped them, probably a _mage_ "

"Why?" asked Deaton, frowning at Stiles.

Well, it was nice while it had lasted, thought Stiles. Scott wouldn't like that he hadn't told him about the ice-cold water but now it might be a helpful clue of some sort.

"When I fell into the river, the water was cold…" he started.

Liam looked at Stiles like he wasn't the smartest cookie in the bunch "Stiles, water _is_ usually cold"

Rolling his eyes, Stiles shook his head "No, it wasn't _just_ cold" he retorted "It was really cold, like _ice-cold_. Like, I couldn't stop shaking"

"That's not possible" Malia commented.

Stiles nodded "That's why there had to be a _mage_ somewhere" he answered "someone who could not only produce heat, but also absorb it. However, I've never met anyone able to do that"

"Well, it isn't _that_ difficult" Lydia commented.

All eyes fell on her. She looked up and shrugged like she did when something was entirely clear for her but a mystery for everyone around her.

"Well, from what I've gathered, magic is basically some sort of manipulation of energy" she explained "And heat is the movement of molecules. If you can control their kinetic energy, you can slow them down and thus, cool something down"

She looked at Stiles, thinking "If you _really_ tried, you could even take away all of the kinetic energy and bring it to absolute zero"

"And that's possible?" asked Malia, her eyes jumping from Lydia to Stiles "To mix magic and science that easily?"

One second, Stiles didn't answer and tried to think about it. Once, he had used his scientific knowledge to find more powerful magic and use it to his will, but that had been different. He had only deduced hot things had a higher amount of magic in them than cold ones.

But something as specific as manipulating molecules? Was that _possible_?

Suddenly, two memories appeared in his mind.

The first one was of him, walking next to Arya as she explained how the powers of a psionic worked. Together with Derek and Scott they had been walking towards the brotherhood, knowing Walter's demonic army was about to attack. Out of nowhere, someone had asked something he hadn't really given much thought.

How was Walter able to blind people? How was he able to paralyze someone? How was Walter able to cause every single kind of pain however painful he wanted?

Arya had shaken her head and said she didn't know. Psionics were able to read minds, to communicate telepathically, to put images into other people's heads. But not a single one of them had ever been able to do what Walter did.

The other memory had originated later that day. Stiles remembered being in the woods Scott and Arya, both of them unable to fight because of Walter, Benedict aiming a gun at him, about to shoot him, Quinn stopping Benedict, Walter getting furious at the boy.

He remembered the words he had said.

" _You gave the bad guy exactly what he wanted. Not only information about Stiles but also how to improve my powers using science"_

Stiles' eyes widened. It _was_ possible. Quinn had figured it out, that _genius_ had figured it out. And because no one had wanted to listen to his infinite jabber about science, he had told Benedict. Benedict who had immediately told Walter everything. Thus, Walter had known how to do it.

He had figured out pain, movement and sight. He had figured out all of them had a scientific background in the brain. And he had used that knowledge to improve his powers.

Stiles looked up at Malia "It _is_ possible" he quickly said "Walter did it. Walter _knew_ how."

"That's _terrible_ news" Derek commented, crossing his arms "So now there aren't just random werewolves trying to kill you, there are also magic users that have _vastly_ improved powers who are willing to help them"

"We need to figure out more about these werewolves" Scott stated determinedly "Tonight we'll go into the woods and see if we can get anything. A scent, a piece of cloth, footprints, anything"

Stiles looked at Scott "I can show you our route and where they attacked us, that might help you find something"

One second no one moved. Their eyes crossed, and everything seemed to halt. Then, a tiny grin appeared on Scott's lips and he nodded.

"I'll also go to the brotherhood and talk to Arya, see if she knows something I don't" he explained.

The pack in front of him nodded. Before everyone left the clinic, they arranged a time and place to meet. They would meet in front of Stiles' house at 8pm and he would show them the way to the clearing where he usually parked. Thereon, they would walk the same way he and Arya usually did and look for hints.

While planning everything, Stiles felt something. The way Malia looked at him, the way Derek crossed his arms, the way Lydia listened, the way Scott organized everything. All of those things arose something in Stiles' chest.

It wasn't until they had all left the clinic and Stiles was sitting alone in his jeep after having parked close to the brotherhood that he consciously acknowledged that feeling. Sitting there and leaning on his seat, he realized what it was.

After so long, he had almost forgotten.

Stiles had felt like he belonged to the pack.

 **Teen Wolf**

As soon as Stiles stepped into the brotherhood, he realized something was wrong. Not really knowing why, he felt he was back to the first time he had come to the brotherhood and gotten out of his jeep. He was reminded of the curious looks the entire brotherhood had given him and how each of them had examined him quietly, without really daring to speak to him.

Right now exactly the same was happening.

While he walked towards the infirmary, wanting to take a look at Arya, he started to notice how the heads of the members of the brotherhood snapped in his direction. Neither did he miss the discrete whispering as he passed by, nor the quickly walking people around him.

There was something wrong.

And it probably concerned him.

Frowning, Stiles decided to quicken his pace. Maybe it had something to do with Arya, maybe her wounds hadn't healed after all, maybe there hadn't been enough of Eustace's potions left.

After each passing second, Stiles' heartbeat increased its velocity. Eustace, the only _healer_ , was dead. That meant no one would be able to help her, no one would know what to do. If she really was in grave danger, he would have no choice but to take her to hospital. It would be incredibly hard to come up with a cover up story, but if it was the only way to save her life…

Not having realized how quickly he had been walking, Stiles suddenly slammed into something hard in front of him. Disoriented, he stepped back, doing his best to not lose his balance. After shaking his head, he looked up only to spot Arabella, wearing a red cloak with incredibly tangled hair.

Her eyes were wide, her movements frantic but Stiles didn't really worry about it. She was a _seer_ , her abilities kind of included being stuck between reality and visions. Therefore, she was always late, distracted and a bit weird.

For one second, Stiles wondered if that would happen to him too.

However, he soon through the thought aside.

"Sorry, I was just…" he started to apologize.

The moment Arabella's eyes landed on Stiles, they widened and her yaw fell open. For one second, she stared at him, then grabbed his arms abruptly, closing her delicate but strong hands around them.

"You're here" she whispered "You _need_ to see it. You _have_ to see it"

Trying to not be very rude, Stiles tried to free himself from her grasp " _What_?" he asked worried "What do I need to see?"

She didn't let go of him "The _message_ " she answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world "They left one. About you"

Forgetting his attempt to escape, Stiles stared at her " _What_ message?" he asked with wide eyes.

"Cedric will tell you" she answered "He said… he said… we shouldn't talk about you. We should act normal. But it won't help. I know. I _saw_ it. I saw the fire…"

"What are you _talking_ about?" Stiles asked, losing his temper.

The woman shook her head and finally let go of him "It won't work. Stiles, I know…"

"Arabella!" suddenly shouted someone a few metres behind her.

Both Stiles' and Arabella's eyes snapped towards the source of the sound. Cedric was walking towards them with a quick pace. Mumbling underneath his breath, he shook his head repeatedly.

"Thank you for finding him, Arabella" he told the seer "I'll take it from here"

The woman eyed Stiles for a second, almost like she wanted to say something but didn't really know if she should. Finally, she shook her head, then smiled at him and turned around, walking away quickly.

Cedric arrived at Stiles' side and placed a hand on his shoulder "Are you okay?"

One second, Stiles didn't acknowledge the question. Arabella's words were still bouncing up and down his mind. What had she been talking about? Why hadn't she been clearer?

All of a sudden, he remembered why he had been walking so fast. Quickly, he looked at Cedric.

"Is Arya okay?" he asked.

Cedric frowned for a moment but nodded carefully. "She woke up a couple of hours ago, you can go talk to her, but I need to tell you something first"

The old mage started to walk towards his tent, keeping his hand on Stiles' shoulder. It didn't take long for them to arrive. As soon as he stepped into the curtains, Stiles was met with a desk full of papers, a couple of shelves and two chairs facing each other across the desk.

Before Cedric could ask him to do anything, he spoke.

"What message was Arabella talking about?" he asked suspiciously.

Cedric sighed. He walked over to his chair and sat down. Slowly, Stiles followed his example and sat across from him.

After a few seconds of looking at his papers, Cedric looked up at Stiles "We still don't know why the werewolves attacked you and Arya"

Stiles nodded slowly, not really knowing what all of this had to do with the so-called message. Maybe Cedric was trying to change the topic, maybe he wanted to hide something…

It wouldn't be the first time, Stiles thought bluntly.

The _mage_ took in a deep breath "Whatever reason it was, it has a _far_ bigger background than we imagined"

Stiles remained quiet. He didn't really know what Cedric wanted to get at.

"They want revenge" Cedric continued "So much we've gathered. But we have no idea _why_ or _what_ we supposedly did to offend them"

"We also don't know how many of them are involved and _how_ long they will remain attacking" the mage continued.

Suddenly seeming completely defeated, Cedric let himself fall back on his chair "But some werewolves left a message near where you and Arya were attacked" he continued "We found it in the morning, Arya insisted on someone going back to find _Joyeuse_ "

Maybe Stiles would have smiled at Arya's behaviour. Maybe he would have found it funny in other circumstances. He had always thought Arya and her sword had a rather weird relationship.

But he felt what heaviness laid in Cedric's words. He could see how serious the thing was that he was about to say. He just knew it wasn't anything good. Not in the least.

"I've told the entire brotherhood to not speak of The Sword's Master" he suddenly changed the topic "As far as we know, they still don't know your identity. We have to keep things that way, Stiles. Your real identity can't under _any_ circumstances leave this camp. Understand?"

Stiles frowned. What the hell was happening? What did all of this have to do with the message? Why shouldn't the werewolves know about his identity?

Cedric took a deep breath and then let the air out slowly "Stiles, they're here because of you" he finally admitted "I don't know what they want revenge for, but they blame _The Swords' Master_ for it. Stiles, they came here to find out who you are and kill you"

* * *

 _ **Thank you very much for reading!**_

 _ **I hope you liked this chapter and I hope you are liking the plot!**_

 _ **Whatever thoughts you have, please let me know! If you feel like it, please comment! I just can't repeat enough times how great it is to read reviews and how happy they make me! It would be awesome if you did!**_

 _ **Besides, I really, really welcome any help in improving. So, if you have an idea regarding something that could improve, please tell me!**_

 _ **Thank you immensely to those who reviewed the last chapter. They keep me motivated! And also a huge thanks to the ones who favorited and followed the story!**_

 _ **Thank you again for reading! :D**_

 _ **(Sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes)**_

 _ **Melpomene :D**_


	3. Chapter 3

Something was bothering Stiles. Scott could easily tell. It had been now almost half an hour since they had started their inspection in the woods. Like they had arranged, Scott and Stiles had met in the clearing with the pack an hour ago.

As they talked to plan how best to approach things, they had come to the conclusion that splitting up would have the best outcome. By spreading out, they would cover significantly more terrain, which provided them with much better chances of getting a scent.

After Stiles had quickly explained the route he and Arya had taken, showing on a map and then drawing on it, they had formed pairs and gone their way.

It wouldn't be long until they met again at the river and talked over their findings. To Scott and Stiles' disappointment, they hadn't found anything. Scott had concentrated on the smells around him, trying to take in as much fragrances as he could. But he only got the scent of moisture, the perfume of trees and the aroma of flowers. No werewolves.

Meanwhile, Stiles had looked into the magic dimension. If he was honest, Scott didn't yet understand how that worked. Stiles had tried to explain several times but his descriptions had made Scott's frowns deepen. For instance, he couldn't understand how Stiles _felt_ how the energy currents wrapped and curved around objects. According to him, that's how he could feel things around him without looking. How he could close his eyes and know exactly what was going on. After hearing this, Scott had raised his eyebrows. Even though he had known Stiles wasn't lying, he had a hard time believing what he was saying. Simply because he couldn't picture or even imagine what Stiles was trying to tell him.

Ever since Stiles had woken up from the hospital, Scott knew he had trouble controlling all of his abilities. It had started with a lightbulb exploding, glares of lights and small fires. However, Scott knew Stiles slowly had started to grow scared of his powers. Which, ironically, made him lose more control.

Now, Stiles couldn't enter the magic dimension without hearing thoughts of the people around him. Another thing Scott had noticed was how uncomfortable Stiles got when he touched something for the first time. The werewolf figured it was because of the unwanted visions that overcame his friend. Although Arya had told him they didn't exactly hurt, Scott imagined Stiles sometimes saw things he didn't want to.

Every time Scott thought about it, he was impressed by how much Stiles had to carry.

But today, today was different. Because in spite of all the problems Stiles had, he always smiled and joked. Not as much as he had before, but Scott knew Stiles was happy. He knew Stiles was strong and had it in him to deal with all his problems.

Stiles was acting differently now.

Since the moment they had met, he had seemed distracted, fidgeting without noticing it. It had become way more obvious after they had started walking. Stiles' gaze had wondered up and down, from left to right, not resting for a single second. His usual talking had vanished, leaving complete silence between them. Besides, Scott could see how tense his shoulders were. He could smell something wasn't right with his emotions.

Without noticing, Scott stepped on a fallen twig. Giving in under his weight, the delicate wood cracked. Seeing Stiles' reaction, Scott could've also as easily fired a gun and gotten the exact same reaction. Stiles halted immediately, his shoulders tensed and he turned his head slowly in a circle, inspecting his surroundings like an owl.

"Dude, relax." Scott quickly said after seeing him "It was me, I stepped on a branch."

Stiles eyed him for a moment, then forced a smile. His shoulders fell back in relief after a few moments.

"Sorry," he answered "things are a little bit tense lately"

As they continued to walk, Scott saw his chance and decided to take hold of it. He knew Stiles was perfectly capable of taking care of himself but that didn't mean he wasn't going to worry for his well-being.

"What's going on?" he asked, looking at Stiles to get a reaction.

And he instantaneously got one. Stiles heart sped up. If he hadn't been a werewolf, he wouldn't have noticed. But right now, he knew. He had gotten prove there was something going on.

Being as smart as he was, Stiles probably knew this. Slowly, he let out a deep breath. Somehow, Scott felt like it bared the weight of an entire world.

"Things aren't looking to good, Scottie" he answered "The brotherhood is in danger. We have a reason to believe the werewolves are after more than what we thought, and we have absolutely no information about them."

Scott would have hit himself for his own stupidity. Stiles was obviously shaken up by the fact that the brotherhood, a big part of his family, was in danger again. Being who he was, Stiles probably considered all of this his responsibility and would blame himself if anyone got hurt.

Not to mention that his girlfriend had almost bled to death. If it hadn't been for Quinn and Eustace's remaining potions, she would have probably died. Scott knew how that felt like and he definitely didn't wish anyone to ever go through something alike.

However, there was a small voice in the back of Scott's head telling him this wasn't the entire story. There was something more. Something Stiles had found out but had decided to hide from them. There was the slightest of doubts in Scott's mind of Stiles being worried about something he didn't want the pack to find out.

The idea of this happening was absurd, Scott told himself. Stiles trusted the pack. If there was anything important, no matter what, Stiles would tell them. He wouldn't hide something big enough to worry him. His friend was probably just stressed and worried.

 **Teen Wolf**

"I still think this is a horrible idea" Liam mumbled under his breath, not really addressing the two werewolves next to him.

However, Scott and Derek had werewolf-ears, literally, and they got every word of what he said.

Derek glanced up at the small mirror and looked at Liam sitting on the backseat of his car. Since they had parked the car a couple of minutes ago, he didn't have to bother looking at the road in front of him and could focus entirely on Liam.

After staring at him for some instances, Derek raised his eyebrows "Did we ever say this was a good idea?"

Before Liam could reply, Scott turned around in his seat just enough so that he could look at both Liam and Derek, resting his shoulder and right side on the co-pilot's seat.

"To be fair, we decided this was the best idea we came up with" he told Derek.

The werewolf gave up glaring at Liam and turned his eyes to Scott "That doesn't mean it has to be a _good_ one"

Scott sighed and looked at his companions one after another. Two days had passed since they had inspected the woods with Stiles and had found absolutely nothing. No scent, no trace, no lingers. After having various talks, partly discussions, with Derek about their situation they had come up with this idea. Liam had just happened to be within hearing distance. The plan had originally been to bring Stiles along but Scott was sure there was something bothering him and Arya was still recovering. Whatever it was, one day of peacefully being in the brotherhood would do Stiles good. Bringing Liam had been a follow up of those tow situations.

Because Scott needed to know how to act. According to Derek, there were certain dynamics, certain unspoken rules between packs that had to be respected. Going against them was turning the entire supernatural world against oneself.

However, Derek hadn't had an answer for this situation. His mother had never talked about the brotherhood, about what would happen if they worked together. Derek didn't know if the werewolves were attacking war on them or simply under the assumption Scott didn't know or care about the magical community.

That's were Peter came in.

"It's no big deal, we've done it before" he told them "Get in, talk to him, get answers and get out. Simple"

"Scott?" Derek asked, staring at the parking lot outside of his car.

"Yes?"

Slowly, Derek turned his head to look at him "You do remember my uncle is a psychopath?"

Frustrated, Scott rolled his eyes. "Of course" he replied, bugged by the fact of Derek thinking him a child "But he's the only one that might know what we should do. I'm willing to take that risk"

Scott could hear Liam sigh in the backseat. The young wolf was probably scared, their visits to Eichen House hadn't ever been pleasant after all, but it was necessary.

Besides, Scott could hardly deny he wasn't entirely firm on his feet. It would be mad to walk into Eichen House without expecting trouble. However, they had gotten in and out of this place alive several times, that pattern wasn't going to change today.

Deciding to stop postponing what had to be done, Scott reached out to open his door "Ready?"

Derek pulled his keys out of the car and opened his door "Let's get this over with"

 **Teen Wolf**

"How about… _I_ get you a brand-new dagger" Arya tried to bargain, laying on her bed "And you don't tell Cedric I quickly went for a walk?"

Sitting on a chair to the left side of her purple bed, Stiles glared at her pale figure enveloped in sheets. Her being awake was already a good sign. It meant the potions were working. However, the bags under her eyes and the white tone on her skin couldn't be overlooked.

"How _exactly_ are you planning to walk?" he asked her, faking honest curiosity while they both knew the answer perfectly.

Arya couldn't walk by herself. Not yet anyway. Since Eustace wasn't here two mayor problems arose. Firstly, the potions weren't working as quickly as they would have if Eustace had had a chance to freshen them up. Secondly, if anything happened, there was no healer to take care of her. No one would be able to diagnose her or do much if she opened her wound again.

"I'll get my boyfriend to help me" she answered, brushing her tangled hair out of her face "He might be very smart, but I am always able to find a way"

Stiles raised an eyebrow and looked around the room. Well, he wasn't sure if a part of an inside of a tent could be described as a room, but he didn't know any better word. Not much had changed since the last time he had been here. There was a wardrobe and a cupboard. A few swords laying around next to the curtains that constructed the tent.

"Your _boyfriend_ " Stiles emphasized the last word "Is not going to help you injure yourself while you are recovering"

Arya raised one eyebrow "Not even for a jewelled dagger?" she asked tentatively "Only about 30 cm long but extremely sharp. You can't find many of those"

Stiles sighed "Arya"

"Yes?"

"If you get out of that bed, Cedric is going to kill me" Stiles commented "And Quinn will probably do so too"

"If you don't…" Arya was about to reply when she was interrupted by a tumult of voices outside of the tent.

At least a dozen different voices were approaching the tent. At first, it was hard to distinguish if they were arguing or simply talking. Judging by the volume of their conversation, Stiles guessed it to be the former. However, after listening for a couple of seconds, his eyes widened in surprise.

No one was arguing.

They were _laughing_ and _joking_.

Completely stunned, Stiles glanced at Arya who was staring back at him with a frown as deep as his. She shook her head cluelessly, answering his unspoken question.

The voices got nearer and Stiles realized they had entered into another part of the same tent they were in. This was one of the larger tents the brotherhood members used to live. It was tremendously big, divided in different rooms by hanging curtains. Right in front of the entrance was a large oak table, a meeting place or common room.

Arya slowly tried to sit up. She grimaced and held her hand to her side but managed to do it halfway. At the same time, she and Stiles tried to peek into the shallow space between the two curtains, but neither were able to get a clear look. The only thing they managed to see was shadows.

"I'm checking it out" Stiles told Arya and got on his feet from the chair.

Without saying a word, Arya tried to get up herself, but Stiles quickly returned to her side and placed his hands on her shoulders. As gently as he could, he pushed her back on the soft bed.

"You aren't getting up" he told her "There is no reason for it. If there is a demon, I can manage. If it is people, they can come in"

"I let you rip a hole in the magic dimension when you were wounded" she snapped.

"Yeah, but I could walk" he replied "You can't. Give it a couple of days and I'll help you rip as many holes as you want in any dimension"

Their discussion was abruptly interrupted by a deep and very loud laughter. Stiles' head immediately snapped to the entrance. Curiosity and the urge to find out what was going on taking hold of him.

Beneath his hands, Arya shifted.

"Fine" she told him, laying back on the headrest "But you get in here and tell me exactly what's going on"

 **Teen Wolf**

Meeting Peter again was exactly as unpleasant as Scott had imagined. Even though he was wearing a simple t-shirt and pants, instead of his classy shirt and suit, he still managed to radiate utter confidence. With his hands folded behind his back and his chest popped up, he glanced at the three werewolves with disgust like they were the ones locked in a mental institution and not him.

"What a pleasant surprise" he said slowly, inspecting them one by one "To what do I owe the honour?"

Scott stepped forward "We need you to answer some questions"

Peter managed to look curious moment, almost fooling them. Then, shaking his head, he scoffed "And why would I do that?" he asked, mockingly "I mean, _you_ are the ones responsible for me being here"

"Because else we'll make sure you never get out" Derek intervened, crossing his arms "Granted, there's not a big chance of you getting out but if you don't cooperate I'll make sure no one ever comes here and talks to you again"

Peter raised his eyebrows in admiration behind the plexiglas "My, my, it must be _something_ serious" he commented. Slowly, he turned around and sat down on a chair close to the left wall of his cell. Once he had gotten comfortable, he crossed his legs and leaned back.

"I'm all ears" he said, folding his hands and letting them fall on his lap.

Derek and Scott exchanged a quick glance. They both immediately knew there was a trick behind this. Something Peter knew or suspected. There was just no other way he would cooperate so quickly.

But they needed his knowledge. They couldn't step back. Scott knew he had to do this not for himself. For Stiles. For the brotherhood.

"Say there were some werewolves in our territory without our knowledge" he told Peter "What if they didn't mean any harm to us but attacked someone else?"

Peter laughed humourlessly "You surprise me, _true_ alpha" he mocked "Isn't it in your blood to save every innocent person that falls victim of the supernatural?"

Scott took a deep breath "They wouldn't be attacking at random" he continued, ignoring Peter's provocation "They are targeting a specific… _group_. A group that is known for its detachment to werewolves. Would that be a declaration of war?"

Something peeked Peter's interest in that sentence. The cocky smirk disappeared from his lips, instead intrigued eyes and a tense jaw took its place. He slowly leaned forward, almost like he wanted to hear better what Scott was saying.

"Why would they be targeting this group?" he asked slowly.

"For whatever reason" Scott repled, wanting to make his lack of knowledge look like authority "The question is: Are they declaring was on us?"

Peter stared at Scott's eyes for a moment, then leaned back on his chair "Theoretically, they _are_ questioning your authority by simply crossing your territory without sending a currier. Attacking someone isn't a direct declaration of war but it is a _big_ sign of disrespect. Wouldn't want that to go unnoticed, right?"

Derek apparently decided to raise his voice again "So what should we do? Tell them to back off? Threaten them? Talk to them diplomatically?"

Peter got on his feet and slowly walked towards them "Scott would have to visit them, _warn_ them. Make clear this is his territory and that they better stop attacking people under his protection"

Liam frowned. "That's not all" he stated.

Smiling, Peter looked at Liam. If Scott didn't know better, he would've said he even looked proud.

" _Of course_ , there's more" he answered, sliding his hands into his pockets "This is how any Alpha _should_ act. Well, only if the ones being attacked aren't the ones I _think_ they are"

Derek apparently knew when his uncle was about to play his card, when he was about to pull it from under his sleeve. But Peter had made a mistake today. He had told them what they needed before starting with the manipulation.

The werewolves weren't declaring war, Scott had to be diplomatic when meeting them. However, they also had to act quickly and talk to the new werewolves, to make the McCall pack seem strong and not lose the respect it had earned over the last few years. The pack had gotten the answer they wanted, they didn't need Peter anymore.

There was no reason for staying here.

"We are leaving" Derek said, already turning around "It was great talking to you uncle, but we have somewhere to be"

Scott and Liam followed Derek's example. They were aware that Derek was the best one at assessing his uncle. When he thought it best to leave, it was because Peter was about to do something. Something he could play to his advantage.

Seeing their backs turning on him, Peter spoke up again "Come on!" he sounded less confident "You still don't know the rest. You might want to know who I think the werewolves are attacking"

No one responded to his words. Derek was the first one to almost reach the door. His hand was already closing around the handle of the gridded metal door when Peter's voice echoed through the room again.

"You know, I'm glad you didn't bring that little _fairy_ of yours with you" he commented. Whatever confidence he had lost, he had regained it with those last words "There are far more dangers for fairies like Stiles around here than any of his kind imagine"

 **Teen Wolf**

The first one to notice Stiles was a young man, about to sit down on the wooden chair furthest from the entrance and thus, closest to Arya's room.

With his hand already on the rest to pull the chair back, his head snapped up to meet Stiles. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of someone he clearly didn't recognize. Then, in a matter of seconds, all eyes had found Stiles and were looking at him.

Stiles felt heat rush to his cheeks as so many people stared at him, clearly surprised and not knowing who he was. Obviously, the feeling was reciprocated. Stiles had no idea who these people were. Scanning the crowd quickly he found five grown men, four women, three teenagers and one child.

Just when Stile was about to excuse himself and go back to Arya's room to escape this situation, his eyes landed on Cedric and Arthur who were standing on the head of the table, the farthest from Stiles.

Quickly, Stiles pointed with his thumb to the closed curtains behind him "Sorry, I was just…" he glanced back, not really knowing why, then turned back to look at the people in front of him "Yeah, I didn't mean to interrupt, I'll just…"

A woman who seemed incredibly familiar to Stiles, even though he had never seen her before, smiled and slowly walked over to Stiles. Her eyes were green and her hair long and pitch black. Wearing a cloak, she was dressed almost equal to Cedric, the only difference being the purple colour of the cloth.

When she arrived in front of Stiles, her smile widened "You didn't interrupt" she answered warmly "We were about to start a meeting, I suppose we surprised you and Arya"

One second Stiles was too dumbstruck to respond. Who was this lady and why was she being so nice to him? Why did she talk about him and Arya like she knew them perfectly?

The woman noticed his uncertainty. "Oh, of course" she shook her head "I'm Thea, daughter of Brenda. It's a pleasure to meet you Stiles, my husband and son have told me a lot about you"

Stiles remembered to close his mouth "Oh, er, likewise" he forced a smile "I mean, both actually. The pleasure and the talking"

Thea nodded and Stiles asked himself why he hadn't immediately known. Quinn looked exactly like her. Their hair was equally as black, their eyebrows equally as curved, their skin equally as pale, their cheekbones equally as marked and their nose equally as thin. That's why she had seemed so familiar.

"Now, I suppose Arya is in her room?" she asked Stiles.

Still struck by the resemblance, Stiles nodded "Yeah, she's resting"

"Great" Thea turned to look back at the table full of people "If you'll excuse me"

Some nodded, some didn't respond. However, Thea didn't really pay them any attention. Instead she walked into Arya's room, opening the curtains as she entered and leaving Stiles alone with the crowded table.

Luckily, Cedric spoke up before things could get awkward again.

"Stiles, very good of you to show up here!" Cedric also seemed excited to see him "I was wondering who could help me and show Fritz, Amala and Hauke around"

The surprise in Stiles' face was probably very obvious because immediately the boy he had crossed eyes with spoke up "I'm Fritz, son of Uwe" he pointed at a girl two seats away from Cedric "She is Amadala, daughter of Rajesh and he" he finally looked at another boy in the circle "is Hauke, son of Sigrid"

Stiles nodded "Pleasure…" he replied, still not quite understanding what was going on "I'm Stiles…, son of… John"

"They are convoys, visitors from other brotherhoods" apparently, Arthur was the only one that understood why Stiles was so confused "They will be staying with us for a while. We need to talk with the representatives and it would be great if you could accompany those three while we talk and show them around"

Stiles confusion shifted to surprise and then to a bit of excitement. Arya had told him there were more brotherhoods, and he had been aware of Cedric's wife being away, but talking right now to someone from one of those brotherhoods… It wasn't anything he had ever done. Besides, he had to admit that he was tremendously curious to find out more about them.

Stiles forced a smile. He figured Arya and Thea would talk for a while which was why he would have time to show them around. In a short amount of time, he was out of the tent with one very blond boy, a girl with brown skin, and a boy with hair almost as red as Ronald Weasly.

 **Teen Wolf**

For an instance, everything froze around Scott. He found himself petrified, his foot hovering in the air motionless. The moment Peter's words met his ears every muscle had stopped working. Every muscle but one.

Scott's mind started rattling and ideas clouding his judgment. A second might have passed, but also an hour. Completely disconnected from the outside world, Scott's mind didn't even bother to keep track of time. In fact, it didn't bother to keep track of anything.

It wasn't until Scott finally found the strength in him to turn around that he noticed Liam and Derek were already halfway back to where they had stood minutes ago. Without thinking about it, Scott quickly strode over to their side, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

" _What_ was that?" was the first thing Derek asked when he got near enough to his uncle again. The werewolf was probably trying hard to hide the concern and anger he was feeling, but unsuccessfully. His clenched fists and his overly tensed lips spoke for him.

Peter was obviously too aware of that. He smirked at his nephew like he was a mere child, lacking every knowledge of the world. His arrogant eyes quickly travelled to Liam and settled on Scott.

"You thought I didn't know?" he asked, knowing everyone present was aware of the truth "Well, I do know about the fairies. In fact, I've met some of them"

Standing to Derek's left, Liam frowned "Why do you call them like that?"

"Like what?" repeated Peter "Fairies?" he laughed hollowly, throwing his head back "Because that's what they _are_ , that's what we've _always_ called them"

Scott would've stepped closer if he could " _We've_ always called them?"

"Yes" Peter immediately replied, knowing perfectly where Scott was heading "How do you think things were before my sister talked to their leader…? Was it Cedric? Or Leobrick?"

Not being able to help it, Scott's eyes widened in disbelief. Peter was serious about this, he actually had an idea of what he was talking about. This wasn't a well hoaxed lie to bend the pack to his will. Peter really did know something they probably didn't. That meant, the pack could get answers they hadn't even hoped for, but Peter had also the power of lying and manipulating.

It was a dangerous game.

"Surprised?" Peter raised his eyebrows "How about this; I tell you what I know and you tell me what I _want_ to know"

Derek scoffed without hesitation "Forget it"

But before he had turned around, Peter had pulled yet another card from underneath his sleeve.

"You could just walk away" he simply said, shrugging indifferently "But then you'll never know why Thalia was so scared of the fairies and…" he paused, adding drama to the moment "you'll never why your dear Stiles might simply disappear one day"

Scott's eyes narrowed "Fine" he answered. It wasn't something they had to talk about. If Stiles' safety was at stake, heck _any_ member of the pack, there was not much he wouldn't do to protect them.

Peter glanced at Derek mockingly "See?" he said "Scott knows what's best"

"Spit it out" Derek replied coldly.

"No, first I want an answer" Peter smiled, folding his hands behind his back and raising his chin "What type of fairy is our dear Stiles?"

"Why would you care…?" Scott stared to ask but was abruptly interrupted.

Peter cleared his throat quite loudly "I just want answers"

One second, Scott considered whether he should really tell Peter. Not once again would he trust that man. Not under the worst of circumstances.

On the other hand, if he already knew about Stiles and the brotherhood, what harm could there be if he knew what Stiles was able to do? Besides, he wouldn't know all of it, he wouldn't know about all the things Stiles could do. Theoretically, Scott wouldn't be lying. However, he wouldn't be telling the entire truth.

But that got him to his next question. What was he supposed to say Stiles was? As far as he knew Stiles had managed to dominate being a master and a mage. Apart from that, he had all the other abilities he yet had to decipher.

He remembered Stiles asking him to keep his secret. The pack had already seen Stiles play with fire and lightning. He might as well stick to that story.

Finally, Scott took in a deep breath "A mage"

Peter's eyebrows rose, however slightly. He nodded in acknowledgement and pushed his lower lip forwards in admiration.

"Not bad" he said "Personally, I always preferred the ones with the mind thingy- what were they again? – Psychics?"

"Psionics" Derek corrected without thinking.

Scott had to do his best to not shudder at those words. As far as he knew, being a psionic was one of the most difficult powers a person with magic could have. It brought immense power with it, yes. But Scott saw Stiles struggle with voices in his head every day. He also remembered Walter and the things he had said. Somehow, it was obvious Peter would like the darkest kind of magic. The one that could hurt people the most.

"Now, you talk" Scott immediately spoke, not wanting Peter to notice his discomfort "How do you know about Stiles?"

Almost like it was something every single person in the world knew, Peter sighed heavily "People come and go around here" he simply said "I'm in the… _special_ section of this place, who else do you think is brought in here? People that knew your little pet and have now seen him become a fairy. People talk, Scott. That's obvious"

Before Scott could even process what Peter had said, Derek spoke up "What did you mean about my mother?"

However, Peter simply shook his head "It's my turn to ask" he stated and looked at Liam "How long have all of you known about them? When did the two realms unite?"

Scott stared at him "Couple of months"

Ignoring the cold tone Scott had answered with, Peter turned around. Folding his hands behind his scalp, none of the werewolves were able to get a clear view on his face. Facing them with his back, Peter remained in that position for a couple of seconds.

Scott's gaze waved to his left. Just as confused as he himself felt, Derek was staring at his uncle. Somehow noticing that Scott's eyes were on him, Derek turned to look at him. They exchange a brief clueless glare, before turning back and looking at Peter.

Moving slowly, Peter moved towards a fancy wooden desk against the back wall of his cell. Ignoring, the bafflement of his audience, he opened a small drawer on the rights side of the furniture. Glass rattled for a second before Peter raised his hand, holding a bottle of water in his hands.

Facing back the werewolves, he waved his hand holding the bottle.

"So much talking got my throat incredibly dry" he commented casually "I'd offer you some, but y can't give it to you now, can I?"

As Scott, Derek and Liam stared at him incredulously, Peter slowly unscrewed the cap of the bottle and, after bringing if to his lips, drank a long sip.

Scott heard him swallow before the man put his bottle back on the desk again and sat down on the chair on the left side of his cell.

Hesitant for what had just happened, Scott quickly looked at Liam and Derek. Both shrugged, Derek even nodded, encouraging him to talk again.

Since Scott wanted answers, he simply shook his head and tried to forget what had just happened and the weirdness of it. He met Peter's eyes staring into his and raised his chin.

"My turn to ask" he answered "What do you know about Thalia and the brotherhood?"

Peter looked at the ceiling for a moment deep in thought.

"You know, Scott" he finally answered "It hardly seems fair. You are asking me to tell you a entire story but your last answer was only… what? Two words long? _Not_ a good deal"

Shaking his head, Peter crossed his arms "No, I'll give you three words only. Fear, prejudice and war. That pretty much summarizes it"

Scott scoffed. He tried to hide the urge in him to know, to find out what had happened, to get an explanation. Instead of answering, Peter had planted new questions with those three words and he perfectly well knew it. Even though Scott hated Peter manipulating them like that, he constricted his anger to clenching his fists.

On the other side of the glass, Peter got on his feet "You have to understand, I can't give you all the answers just yet" he commented "You'll never come here again and my chances of getting out won't look too good"

Derek grunted to Scott's left "If you are thinking about buying your way out, you might as well forget it"

With the uttermost seriousness Peter dug his eyes into Derek's "Give it some time, we'll see about that"

This conversation had ended. That much was clear. No matter how hard they tried, Peter wasn't going to tell them much more, instead he was going to inform them of how much they _didn't_ know just to better his situation. A cliff opened inside of Scott. If they left now, they would end Peter's game but if they stayed, there might be a chance of them finding out something useful.

Scott weighted the two options. He considered what possible damage could be done. How much the past could influence the present. And how that knowledge could help them solve their problems.

No matter what had happened, the werewolves that had come hadn't been part of the Hale Pack. Knowing what had happened back then wouldn't do much aside form answering a few questions. Questions that would love to be answered but weren't in dire need of being answering.

On the other hand, Peter could use anything to work his way out of here. He was one of the present dangers they had to worry about. That's why he was locked up in Eichen House.

However, there was just one small thing still bothering Scott.

"What did you mean Stiles might simply vanish one day?" he asked Peter carefully.

The werewolf raised his eyebrows. "Just because I like Stiles," he answered, resting his elbows on his thighs and leaning forward "I'll help you with that one"

Scott waited. Silence ruled over. No one moved. Not a single muscle.

"Stiles' people are powerful" Peter finally stated coldly "Powerful beings attract attention. From dangerous people. And I don't only mean werewolves"

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading!**_

 _ **I'm really sorry it took this long to update. The last three weeks were quite stressful and I didn't have time to write. :( But now, I've got plenty of time again and will be updating regularly again :)**_

 ** _This chapter might be a bit confusing, but beliefe me all of the things that happened will make sense eventually. I promise. Everything is following a plan._**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews, I know my thanking as a little bit late, but still, better late than never. Reading the reviews makes me incredibly happy and it just makes my day to see a notification. So please, if you have something to say or an opinion or maybe even a theory or an idea of how to improve, let me know! I love reading what you think!_**

 ** _I hope you likedd the chapter and continue reading the story! Plot maybe seems a bit wierd now, but it will all make sense :)_**

 ** _Thank you again a lot for reading!_**

 ** _Sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes._**

 ** _Melpomene :D_**


	4. Chapter 4

An hour after Stiles had left the tent to show the German members around, they already found themselves walking back to their starting point. Admittedly, the brotherhood was quite big but aside from large tents where people lived and met, there wasn't many things that were worth sightseeing. The infirmary, the forge, the bonfire and another few things. Not a very fun tour.

Hauke turned out to be the friendliest of all. The red-headed, overly tall 17-year-old had listened to Stiles as he told them what the different places were and sometimes even asked for more information. Also, he hadn't held back himself, telling Stiles about the brotherhood in Germany and how they lived in wooden huts instead of tents due to the cold weather. But aside from that, there weren't many differences between the two brotherhoods.

For a reason unknown to Stiles, Fritz had seemed to be upset during the entire time. Whatever it was, Stiles decided to ignore it since Amadala pointed at the blonde and rolled her eyes in resignation. It was probably related to something Stiles didn't even know about.

The girl, Amadala, hadn't spoken much, but she reminded Stiles of Erica. Because of her clothes, the confidence she wore them with and the iron in her eyes, Stiles would've been surprised if he hadn't noticed the resemblance immediately.

Now, they were a couple of tents behind the main tent, where Cedric and the convoys were having a meeting. As they walked, Hauke told Stiles about the demons in Germany.

"And there are these dwarfs that have these axes or big hammers" he explained smiling "The _masters_ have usually a difficult time around them, but _mages_ can fight them more easily"

Stiles rose his eyebrows "Why is it so hard to fight them?"

"Well, they really know well how to fight with the axes, and they are short. It is sometimes hard to aim at them" Hauke explained "And then, there are dark elves, but they are not like in TV, they're much worse"

Stiles couldn't help but think about Thor, the comic-book hero that had once fought against vicious, terrifyingly symmetrical elves. If that wasn't bad enough for Hauke, he really didn't want to meet the real ones.

Hauke saw his confused expression "I know, it's hard to believe" he continued "But they are completely white, and they have perfect faces. They've got claws instead of fingers and they're teeth are all pointy. The creepy thing is that they move the plants. That's how thy kill you. A while back a lot of them attacked our brotherhood and they used sprouts to tie people and kill them. It was bad."

Stiles was about to ask what had exactly happened, when, for the first time, Fritz decided to speak up in a dark and molested tone.

"It wasn't only elves" he said, ignoring the heads that snapped at his direction "There were vampires, dwarfs, hellhounds. It was the worst attack our brotherhood had ever faced"

Something crept up Stiles' mind, an idea that he really, really wanted to be false. Their brotherhood had been attacked by an army of demons, they had been organized and the demons had tried to debilitate the members before killing them.

That sounded awfully familiar.

Stiles clenched his fists. He hoped it hadn't been what he was thinking. However, deep down he knew it was the only explanation.

Amadala looked up at Fritz, her eyes digging their way into his in a way that said this wasn't the first time they had had this discussion.

"It lasted a while, but the demons fell back eventually. We weren't prepared but that won't happen again" she told more Fritz than Stiles.

Fritz scoffed "There is more to that day, they just don't want to tell us"

Now, Stiles really got worried. This was bad. Really bad. They didn't know about Walter and his demons and his plans. Stiles only wanted them to change the topic and keep walking. He wanted to get them back to the main tent. Fast.

"That's why they asked you to `show us around'" he turned to look coldly at Stiles "Because they are discussing it and don't want us to be there"

That was not good.

Stiles suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin. Hoping none of them would notice, he started walking faster.

The other two didn't seem to want his conversation to end, Stiles soon noticed and smiled sourly at his own luck.

Amadala ran in front of Fritz and started walking backwards while facing him "Just because you read that book, doesn't mean that it is true"

Stiles didn't want to know what book she was talking about.

Fritz rolled his eyes "A prophecy is a prophecy"

Stiles considered whether running away would be a fitting option.

Probably not.

"Have you heard of it?" Hauke decided to involve Stiles in the conversation "The prophecy about the Swords' Master? Do you think that's why Uwe decided to bring the brotherhood's psionic here?"

Stiles gulped with his own saliva.

"There's a psionic here?" he asked not managing to hide the fear certain memories arose in his mind.

Fritz smiled satisfied and glanced at Amadala "You see, there's your prove"

The girl stared at Stiles and frowned while she inspected him carefully. That moment, Stiles realized he had done something really stupid. They would want to get answers about his behaviour, and he wouldn't, _couldn't_ tell them the entire story. Not the part that could get him killed if his secret got out of the brotherhood.

"We had a _psionic_ " Stiles slowly started to explain "He… went rogue. Rumour is… that he never learned properly to control his powers. There was no one that could teach him and because of all the things he heard, he…"

"Went crazy?" Amadala ended his sentence for him.

Stiles nodded.

She smiled warmly at him "Well, don't worry" she told Stiles "Johann, our _psionic_ , is one of the best. He knows perfectly well how to use his powers. In fact, when there is a problem in another brotherhood in Europe, he is the one that leaves to teach other _psionics_ how to use their powers."

Fritz didn't seem too concerned about _psionics_ going crazy. He eyed Stiles with interest for the first time since they had met.

"What happened with Walter?"

Stiles took a deep breath "He summoned demons, made them attack the brotherhood, tried to kill a lot of people"

"So, there is a chance the attacks were linked?" Fritz inquired, fire in his eyes "Maybe Walter organized the…"

Stiles thought that stopping this now would be the best thing to do.

"I don't know" he interrupted, trying to not be too disrespectful "The only thing I do know is that Walter did a lot of harm"

Luckily, they arrived at the tent in that moment, cutting all other questions in the German's tongue. In front of the large, purple tent was Cedric, talking to other three persons who Stiles assumed to be members of the German brotherhood.

Cedric's eyes soon found Stiles and the three visitors. He smiled at them and waved them to come closer.

Honestly, Stiles didn't feel in the mood to talk to Cedric and meet the other German members. Knowing his luck, the first person that would try to talk to him would be the damn _psionic_ and he _really_ wasn't feeling up to that. He had enough bad memories involving a certain _psionic_ , he didn't need any more.

So, after greeting the other two members and kindly listening to Cedric tell him about the things they were going to do, Stiles wished all of them a nice day and walked into the tent. None of them noticed how he wanted to distance himself and also wished him a nice day. Hauke thanked him for the tour and Amadala said she looked forward to talking to him again.

Cedric soon returned to his conversation with the other tow members who were (luckily) two _masters_. It didn't take long, and Stiles was again inside the purple tent, heading for Arya's room.

As he stepped between the two purple curtains, he saw Arya sitting on her bed but still covered in sheets. She was listening with a somewhat painful expression at Quinn, who was sitting on the foot of the bed with a book in his hands.

When her eyes looked up to find Stiles, she scrunched her face pleadingly.

"Please, make him stop" she asked, interrupting Quinn "He's been telling me about entropy and enthalpy and affinity and I can't make it stop"

Before he knew it, Stiles laughed. And as he laughed a rock fell off his chest. That was exactly what he had needed.

Smiling, Stiles sat down on the bed next to Arya and swung his arm over her shoulders "Look at the bright side, maybe you'll fall asleep and when you wake up he'll be done talking"

Arya rose an eyebrow "Not even the end of the world could shut him up"

Again, laughter escaped Stiles' lips. Quinn stared at them offended, but soon, a smile also appeared on his face.

That moment, Stiles looked at them. Quinn had lost his memories, Arya had been stabbed, and he was scared of a _psionic_ being near him but still, there was more to their life than that. Maybe it was just the distraction he needed, but that moment, he felt that the world was okay. In that moment, their demons didn't seem to matter. Their friendship was far stronger than the darkness in their life.

 **Teen Wolf**

It wasn't until a few hours later, when the stars were already gleaming above their heads, that Stiles decided it was time to go home. They had listened to Quinn for a while, Stiles mostly understanding what he was saying while Arya just laid by Stiles' side and commented how much she didn't understand or care for that matter.

Their conversation had moved to various topics, reaching from Arya's bribed dagger to the German brotherhood. For a moment, Stiles actually felt like he was a normal teenager.

Luckily, the German brotherhood had also brought a healer, Diana, who took a look at Arya's wound and helped a bit to make it heal much quicker. Arya hadn't done nothing to hide her joy because of it. She couldn't wait to be up on her feet again and train.

When Stiles had seen it was already past 8 o'clock, he had decided to drive home. His dad's shift ended at 9 o'clock and he still had planned to cook something healthy for him to eat. That's how good of a son he was, always willing to cook a vegie burger for his dad.

So, after giving Arya a brief kiss and saying goodbye to everyone, he walked out of the brotherhood towards the clearing where he usually parked his jeep. His hand was hovering above the door's handle, when he heard a voice behind him.

Surprised, Stiles turned around and found a man, walking rapidly towards him.

As he crossed the clearing, the man smiled at him "Hello Stiles, Cedric and I thought it would be best for us to talk alone where no one could hear us"

With quite a few questions on his mind, Stiles only frowned at the man.

"Who are you?"

The man stopped walking a few steps in front of him.

"I'm Johann, son of Peter. Cedric told me you have had problems with your powers. I can help you" he said.

The _psionic_.

Stiles stared at the man, Johann, for a second. His heart sped up in his chest and without being able to stop it, Stiles found himself comparing the two mind-readers he had met.

Johann was tall, almost like Walter. However, his hair wasn't black, it was light brown and he also had no beard. His eyes were blue and besides them were small wrinkles, almost as if he smiled too much. Another difference was his age, Johann was younger than Walter. Stiles estimated him to be in his early thirties, whereas Walter had been late forties or early fifties.

Although there were clear differences between them, Stiles suddenly felt the need to get into his jeep and drive far, far away. Just thinking of what that man could do, the things he could say, the pain he could cause…

Stiles wanted to get away from him.

Apparently, his silent staring told Johann enough to understand the situation.

The man tried to smile comfortingly at him but to Stiles it just felt _wrong_.

"Cedric also told me you could have some difficulty trusting me" he continued "But believe me, I only want to help you, Stiles"

Johann made a step forward to come closer, but Stiles' body reacted before he knew it. Immediately, he stepped back, trying to recover the distance between them.

For a second, Stiles saw the hurt in Johann's eyes, in the way his eyebrows knitted together. And he knew. He knew this man wasn't Walter because Walter could not be hurt. Not emotionally. That man had lacked a soul to feel anything.

Stiles shook his head and ran his hands over his face, trying to clear his mind.

"I'm sorry" he finally managed to say as his hands fell back to his sides "It's just a lot to… I didn't expect…"

Johann smiled again and this time it didn't feel as wrong.

"It's okay" he answered and tried again to get closer. Stiles didn't step back, ignoring the small voice in the back of his mind.

Johann's smile brightened "You have had trouble controlling your powers?"

Stiles was about to reply when he suddenly realized Johann knew he was a _psionic_. Confused, he stopped himself before a word slipped off his tongue. Cedric and he had come up with a cover-up story to tell everyone, to hide his identity. But in that story, he was a _mage_ , not a _psionic_.

Had Cedric told Johann a different story? Or had Cedric told Johann the truth?

Also, why hadn't Cedric told him about the _psionic_? About his plans to train him?

Johann again, seemed to understand what had made Stiles hesitate after a few seconds of silence.

"I mean your powers as a _psionic_ " he specified "I suppose all the other abilities are affected because of that but the root is the _psionic_ part"

So, he _knew_.

Taking in a deep breath, Stiles nodded.

When he opened his mouth to speak, his throat felt rarely dry "Every time I try to enter the magic dimension, I… I hear the voices. It's getting harder to ignore them"

Johann nodded. "You need to train and learn how to control them"

That didn't sound bad at first. But Stiles knew what training meant. It meant opening up, going willingly into the magic dimension and listening to the voices on purpose. That was something he wasn't very eager to do.

"I'll help you" Johann told Stiles "Being a _psionic_ is one of the hardest abilities to bear. Believe me, I've helped many people with our abilities. It is important to learn to handle them properly, else..."

"I'll end up like Walter" Stiles completed the sentence.

Johann nodded again.

"Apparently, no one noticed how much help he needed until it was too late" Johann explained "The sooner we start training, the sooner you'll be able to control your powers. All of them"

 **Teen Wolf**

Scott watched as Stiles walked up and down for what felt like the thousandth time. The clicking of his soles on the wooden door weas accompanied by the sound of his hands rubbing against each other. If Scott had been anything near normal, he wouldn't have noticed or cared about these things. However, his heightened sensed made him all too aware of Stiles' nervousness, almost passing it on to him.

After another few minutes of sitting on his friend's bed and watching it, Scott couldn't take it anymore. He put his math book down next to him on the bed and got on his feet.

"What is going on?" he asked.

Stiles' pacing immediately halted.

"What?" he asked perplexed.

"You've been acting… _weird_. For quite a while now and I'm really starting to think something's wrong" he explained, his eyes softened "You can tell me"

Standing in the middle of his room, Stiles stared at Scott for a moment. The werewolf had decided to collect extra credits for school and was thus studying for the following year, even though they were already on vacation. Stiles had offered to help him which was why Scott had come to his house.

It took Stiles some time to react, Scott knew he was thinking about what he should say and how to say it. Stiles had gotten a lot more careful with his choice of words lately.

Finally, Stiles shook his head. Having walked over to his desk, Stiles sat down on the chair next to it and directed his eyes at Scott.

Slowly, Scott sat down on the bed where he had been, facing Stiles.

Said person opened his mouth once before closing it again. He looked up at the ceiling, thinking again.

"There's a brotherhood in Germany" Stiles started when he decided to speak "And some of their members came here to visit"

Scott nodded, wanting Stiles' to keep talking after having closed up a few days ago. For that reason, he supressed the surprise in his muscles when he heard there was more than one brotherhood. Never in his life had he imagined that there was much more to magic than the tents he already knew. However, it did make sense. His pack wasn't the only pack after all.

Trying his best, Scott pushed these thoughts aside and returned his full concentration to Stiles.

"I met some of them and they are nice" Stiles tried to smile but it looked more like a grimace "But… we talked, and they said some things, things about… you know…"

But Scott didn't.

Stiles sighed after seeing Scott wasn't understanding "The whole prophecy stuff" he confessed "Apparently, it made it all to Germany."

Now, Scott wasn't able to hide his surprise.

"What did they say?" he asked.

Stiles shrugged "It's not like they know much" he replied "But there are rumours. Some of them don't believe that there was such a huge battle and that…."

Stiles eyes looked down at his hands, playing with his own fingers "Cedric and I agreed that it would be best if no one found out about me. Something like keeping my identity a secret. Like, I'm just a _mage_ until things return to normal"

Scott frowned. Why would Stiles feel bad about that? Having known Stiles for his entire life, Scott knew Stiles wanted a lot of things but not attention. If someone had asked him, Scott would've said Stiles would be glad to be able to go under and pass unnoticed.

There had to be something more.

"There's more" he spoke his thoughts aloud.

Stiles nodded and looked out of the window "Cedric decided there was one person that _should_ know about me" he took in a deep breath. Then, he hesitated, and Scott could immediately see this was it. This was what was really bothering him. And it was clear to see that it was hard for Stiles to get it over his lips.

Finally, Stiles sighed "There's a _psionic_ and… and part of the reason why the members came… it was because Cedric asked him to train me"

"And you don't want to?"

Stiles shrugged "I don't know. It just always reminds me of… _him_."

There was no need to name _him_. Scott immediately knew he was talking about Walter. After so long, Scott hated to see his friend still haunted by that man. It wasn't like it had been with the Nogitsune. Stiles didn't have panic attacks or nightmares. In fact, Scott doubted Stiles even thought of Walter on any normal day.

But when he was mentioned, Stiles still wasn't able to simply shrug it off. It was clearly something he preferred not thinking about.

Still, there was the memory in Scott's mind, of Stiles not being able to do what he had once done with complete calm. He remembered when he had seen Stiles use his powers for the first time, when he had found out there was such thing as magic.

When the demons had attacked, Stiles had acted. Lightning and fire flowing out of his hands, trash-cans moving at full speed. Stiles' magic had come so natural to him, so easily and without a burden.

Then, it had started slowly. Stiles was scared of his own powers, there was no doubt. Maybe Stiles wasn't aware of it himself, but Scott knew him to well.

And if training offered a solution, then why shouldn't Stiles at least try?

Before he could think about the situation more, the words left his mouth.

"I think you should do it"

Stiles' head snapped up, his eyes digging into his and seeking an answer.

Scott was quick to speak.

"If it helps you control your abilities" Scott explained "…it can be good. You could start with that and then move on to the other things you can't control. Maybe…"

Scott trailed off, not really daring to speak out what he was thinking.

Stiles seemed more intrigued than terrified. The insecurity and fright in his face had shifted into confusion and maybe, maybe even curiosity.

"Maybe…?" Stiles asked.

Scott took in a deep breath "Maybe you are kind of stuck" he finally said and leaned forward "You stopped training as much as you used to. Maybe this is what you need. You'll have to learn to use your abilities eventually, right? Why not get it over with quickly?"

Stiles leaned back on his chair. It wasn't easy to read his posture. His brows were furrowed, his hands thrown over his lap and his blazed eyes staring blankly out of the window.

Hoping he hadn't said anything wrong, Scott observed his friend silently. He didn't dare to speak up. If he had said something wrong, Scott didn't want to make it worse.

"I think you are right" Stiles said but his voice was quiet. He turned around to look at Scott "Thank you"

It took one moment for Scott to take in what he had just heard. Then, when his brain understood what was behind Stiles' words, he couldn't help but smile.

He had helped Stiles.

He had been a good friend.

Scott didn't bother pushing the smile down "You'll learn fast"

Stiles smiled back, not as wide as Scott would have wished. Not as relieved and not as confident. But it was a start.

Suddenly, Stiles frowned "What did you want to tell me?" he asked "In the text you said you wanted to talk about something?"

Scott's mouth hung open for a while. He wanted to tell Stiles everything that had happened yesterday when he had talked to Peter. He wanted to tell him about Thalia, the disappearances and the fact that Peter called him a fairy.

But Stiles had enough on his plate right now.

A voice in the back of his mind knew it wasn't the best thing to do. Stiles had been honest, which should encourage him to be honest too. But he just wanted to protect him. Eventually, Stiles would find out. Scott and Derek would tell him about everything and together they would be able to get answers.

However, that story wasn't relevant at the moment. Peter was locked up in Eichen House and whatever had happened in the past wouldn't help them solve any problems right now.

That could wait.

There were other things Stiles should know.

"I went to Eichen House with Derek and Liam" he started explaining. When Stiles was about to raise his voice and probably ask him why the hell he had done that, Scott raised his hand to make him stop.

"We talked to Peter" he explained with haste "And asked him what we should do about the werewolves that attacked the brotherhood"

Stiles leaned forward on his chair. Judging by his concerned eyes, Scott guessed he still wasn't pleased with the idea of them going to Eichen House.

"What did he say?" he asked.

"We should find them and try to talk first, see if they see any reason." Scott shrugged "If they don't…, we'll have to act"

Stiles nodded "Let's hope it doesn't come to that"

 **Teen Wolf**

At the same time, Cedric was standing in his tent. Not the one where he lived in, but the one he used to work. It was more of a compartment behind the main tent, where official meetings were held.

The tent had a large desk with a large number of drawers and compartments. But no matter how big that space was, it still wasn't enough to store all the knowledge the brotherhood had accumulated over its long existence. Therefore, there were shelves and cupboards behind and next to the desk, filled with every kind of book and scripture one could think of.

To Cedric's misfortune so many delicate antiquities needed to be taken care of. Standing in front of one of the many shelves, he was pulling one leather bound book after another and looking for any signs of damage. Luckily, most of them were only covered by a thick layer of dust.

When he was pulling the third book from the second shelf, the man that had been sitting in front of his desk and accompanying him, decided to speak up.

"Is there anything about a _psionic_?" Johann asked, and Cedric wasn't surprised at all by his question.

Without turning around, Cedric quickly let his eyes travel through the furniture in front him.

"I don't think so" he replied, still examining the books "I suppose Walter took everything"

Cedric heard a book close behind him and fall on the table with care. "Was it that bad?" Johann asked "What he did?"

Looking down at a purple cover in his hands, Cedric sighed "Are you thinking about Stiles?"

"Yes" the _psionic_ replied behind him "Training him won't be easy"

Just the moment when Cedric was about to open his mouth and tell Johann that he was one of the best teachers in the entire world, Arthur's silhouette burst into the room.

Breathing heavily, he leaned his entire weight on his knees and tried to recover his composure for a second. After what felt like the second before a bomb going off, he looked up at Cedric.

"You have to see this" he forcefully got out "The clearing… our cars…"

Cedric had already reacted before Arthur had a chance to finish his sentence. The mage let the violet book fall on the desk and strode to the outside as fast as he could. When his face met the fresh air, he spotted the members gathering at the tree line, all of them trying to get to said clearing.

As Cedric quickly made its way to the crowd, whispers and mumbles made their way into his ears. When he raised his voice, asking the people to let him through, members moved aside and cleared a path for him. Soon, he had made his way into the tree line and only needed to jog a few minutes to get to the clearing. A part of him was aware of Arthur and Johann following him but that wasn't important enough for his mind to waste much energy thinking about it.

Soon, Cedric arrived at the clearing and halted next to Godiva and Uwe. The representative of the masters and the German ambassador were frozen in their place, both of them staring at the scene before them.

Ignoring all the other members hushing in the background, Cedric stepped forward. No one had dared t get closer than Godiva. Out of the corner of his eye, Cedric spotted Amadala and Hauke. Luckily, Arya and Quinn were nowhere to be seen.

Because Cedric knew they would've been outraged, they would've made keeping Stiles' identity safe more than difficult.

"When did this happen?" Cedric asked Godiva, not parting his eyes from the image.

She took in a deep breath "No one knows" she answered, her voice was hollow "The German kids were planning to go into town and found the cars like this"

Cedric would've nodded but he knew she wasn't looking at him. Slowly, he stepped forward. The already shattered glass clattered beneath his boots as he got closer. When he reached one of the car's side, the thick grey smoke rising from the hood made him cough.

Stepping around the car, Cedric let his hand fall on the cold metal. His fingers soon found the thing he had been looking for. Slowly, his fingers traced the rough form jagged in the metal. One moment, Cedric's eyes were glued to the form, wondering what it meant.

When his eyes finally were able to turn away, they wondered up, taking all of the other cars in. It was when he noticed that the same spiral had been pierced in every possible spot in all cars like a plague, that he realized it couldn't mean anything good.

But the hundreds of symbols weren't the only message they had left. Forcing back the utter disgust in his stomach, Cedric looked down at the killed animal laying on front of a blue car. The squirrel's eyes were wide open, almost like it knew what atrocities had happened to it after its death. Its stomach was gahsed opened, three long slashed bathed in blood just like the grass beneath the animal.

Then, there was the message. Cedric was really hoping what he was thinking was wrong, but there wasn't a shadow of a doubt that the squirrel's blood had been used to do the job.

On the only windshield that hadn't been shattered to pieces, bloody hands had smeared words.

 **Our people were slaughtered because of you.  
We came to return the favour.  
We'll tear every fairy its wings out if it stands in our way  
and our claws will slit you Swords' Masters throat.**

 **How many suffer  
is up to you. **

**The time of peace is over.**

 **Teen Wolf**

There was a man inside Eichen House, leaning on a chair with his legs swung over the desk in front of him. Holding a cigarette between the middle and index finger of his left hand, the man set his eyes on the smeared and dusty papers in front of him. The notes and drawings had been rotting in his cupboard for too long.

Apparently, the time had come to continue his crusade.

He pushed the red button of the recording device his ally had given him. The man had been reluctant at first to approach his kind, but it had proven useful. And now, the ally had played right into his hands. The man had something the ally wanted. So, whether he liked it or not, he was going to do whatever he wanted.

"… _Say there were some werewolves in our territory without our knowledge…"_

"… _They are targeting a specific… group…"_

"… _Well, only if the ones being attacked aren't the ones I think they are…"_

"… _How long have you known about them? When did the two realms meet? ..."_

" _Couple of months_ "

A satisfied grin appeared on the man's face as he listened to the recording for the fourth time. That was exactly what he had waited for. That was exactly what he needed. History was going to repeat itself and so would his doings.

A wide door had opened for him, he wasn't going to miss this opportunity. The man looked down at his hand. A tiny flame started to dance between his fingers, illuminating the dark office. Soon, he would end what had started 40 years ago.

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading!**_

 _ **I really want to apologize for the long wait, I honestly had planned to update sooner. I won't come up with excuses and I won't promise anything because I don't want to be a liar. I can, however, say that I will try my best and that I will really work on improving these long waits.**_

 _ **Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter. And if you did, or if you have any thoughts, please let me know! I love to read reviews and know what you think! I've said it before but I can tell you that reading a review always maked my day. It's just such a big feeling of happiness and it motivates me a lot to keep writing. So, please, i would really like to hear your opinion.**_

 _ **Since I always want to improve my writing, any tips and productive criticism are very, very welcomed.**_

 _ **Thank you a lot for the reviews! As I've said, they truly make my day and every single word means a lot to me. :D**_

 _ **Answering the question of a mysterious guest who asked whether Quinn and Benedict would be reunited, I can say that there is a high probability. :) I won't say how, why or when but I think their relationship offers a lot and I am not planning to let Benedict fall into the void of forgetness. In fact, I've already got some plans for him. :)**_

 _ **But I don't want to spoil anything, which is why I won't say anymore. However, your curiousity really warms my heart.**_

 _ **Again, thank you for reading! I really appreaciate you taking the time to read this story! The story is about to get more tense and have more action!**_

 _ **Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.**_

 _ **Melpomene :D**_


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